


In Her Dreams

by immortalpramheda



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Inception Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Dreamsharing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-08-19 15:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 48,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16537130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalpramheda/pseuds/immortalpramheda
Summary: It has been months since Bellamy last saw his sister and in a moment of desperation he makes a deal with a corrupt guard on the Ark. His task is simple - get close to the senior engineers daughter and find out the information that her father is hiding. In exchange, he'll get to see his sister. But things get complicated when he begins to fall for her.





	1. My Responsibility

**Author's Note:**

> Set pre S1 on the Ark, several months after Octavia has been locked up and soon before the events of the show. This is partly an Inception AU, with dreamsharing being a major plot point of the story. You don't need prior knowledge of the film, the concept is quite straight forward to understand, although there are mentions of the PASIV device which is what allows people to share dreams.

There are a two people ahead of Bellamy in the line. Both from Hydra Station, judging their clothes. He nervously fiddles with his hat, the hat that shows that he is a janitor, one of the lowest ranking jobs on the entire Ark.

 

This wasn’t always what he was. He was a guard cadet, almost a full guard. It was a job that his mother had gotten him by sleeping with a highly ranked guard. He hated that his mother had to resort to that, but having that job meant he could keep his family safe. Although, it all fell apart when he took her sister out to the masquerade dance. His sister was captured and his mother was floated, and he was demoted to janitor.

 

It had now been almost eight months since he had seen his sister. His mother was gone and his sister was locked up, his whole world was turned upside down. He had worked so hard at this tedious job and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He did try to get lost in his work, he took extra shifts cleaning to distract himself and get his mind off everything. But he was desperate to see his sister. She had always been his responsibility and it was driving him crazy that he hadn’t see her.

 

When it’s his turn to go up to the counter, he keeps calm and acts as though everything is fine.

 

“Visitors form?” the man at the counter says to him, keeping his head down at his computer and holding his hand out.

 

Bellamy pats down his pockets. “Oh, I must have forgotten it,” he lies. He hates how fake it sounds coming out of his mouth.

 

The receptionist looks up with an unimpressed look on his face. “I can’t let you in unless you have a visitors form.”

 

“Please," Bellamy begs. “I’m here to see Octavia Blake, I’ll only be a few minutes, I _swear_.”

 

“When you bring me your form, then you can see her,” he says, looking back down at his computer screen.

 

“ _Please_ , I just need five minutes. I’ll be in and out before you know it,” he says, pulling at strings now, determined to see her no matter what.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” he says. “ _No_ form, no visit.”

 

Bellamy bangs his hands down loudly on the counter. “I _need_ to see my sister…”

 

“Sister?” he says, finally making eye contact with him. “No one has a sister.” Suddenly recognition appears in his eyes. “Oh… you’re the brother.” He gives a low laugh. “In case you were not aware of the rules of the Ark, having a second child is _illegal_ , that is why she’s locked up.” He pauses. “They should have floated her and your mother together, would’ve solved a _lot_ of problems.”

 

Anger bubbles up in Bellamy and his nostrils flare. “She is a _living_ person, how can you say _that?_ ”

 

“She broke the law by being born,” he says, not an inch of sympathy in his tone.

 

“That _wasn't_ her fault,” Bellamy says with his jaw locked in place, trying not to let his anger overtake him. He puts his right hand into a fist. How could someone say that about his sister?

 

The receptionist speaks into his radio. “I need you to come and escort someone out.”

 

He doesn’t want to make things worse. He relaxes his hand and calms his breathing down. “ _Please_ , I need to see her.”

 

Two guards appear and each roughly take one of Bellamy’s arms. At first he resits, but eventually decides it’s best if he obeys. He doesn’t want to be demoted again. What could be worse than janitor?

 

They drag him out without saying a word and slam the door in his face. He punches the wall and gives out a frustrated grunt. He should have thought it through more, had an actual plan. But he was desperate, going there was impulsive. He just _needed_ to see her.

 

_My sister, my responsibility._

 

That phrase keeps running through his mind. She was his responsibility. He was supposed to protect her. And he failed. She was locked up and they hadn’t seen each other for over eight months. He’d promised his mother, he’d promised himself. How could he be so stupid and reckless? How could he let this happen?

 

He feels tears coming but pushes them inside. He’ll just need to think of another way.

 

Bellamy makes his way back to his quarters though the familiar corridors, not making eye contact with anyone. He gets to the final stretch and things are quiet, but then he hears footsteps. He glances behind him and sees that there is someone who is following him. He worries that it’s a guard, sent to punish him after the scene he made. He picks up the pace and walks faster, fumbling with his access card at the door.

 

He gets increasingly anxious as the person gets closer, but he manages to get inside and closes the door behind him and leans against it.

 

Soon after, there is knock at the door. He jumps when he feels the vibration. That person _was_ following him. He takes a few steps back but the knocks keep coming.

 

“Bellamy,” the voice says, and immediately he recognises it.

 

Anger begins to bubble in his blood. He walks towards the door, his breaths coming out in big huffs and his right hand turning into a fist, ready to punch the moment the door opens.

 

He opens the door a crack and sees Commander Shumway standing there. The person who is responsible for tearing his life apart.

 

He notices Bellamy’s fist and puts his hands up in surrender. “Don’t attack.”

 

Bellamy doesn’t move an inch. "Give me one good reason why I _shouldn’t_.” He pauses to take a breath and get his anger in check. “ _You’re_ the reason my mother was floated, _you’re_ the reason my sister was arrested.”

 

He was the one who turned them in. Bellamy tried to lie his way out and get his sister back to their quarters, but he caught her. He was a guard, Bellamy’s superior. He’d asked him as a fellow guard to overlook everything. He could owe him, he didn’t care what it cost. But Shumway refused. He was dedicated to his job.

 

Bellamy had every reason to punch him right now, to punish him for what he did to his family. Did he have no compassion? Did he realise what he did by tearing his family apart?

 

Shumway still had his hands up. “I have a proposition for you.”

 

Bellamy hesitates. “What kind of proposition?”

 

“I can get you into to see your sister,” he says, pulling something out of the pocket of his jacket.

 

Bellamy’s face changes and all of his anger melts away. A chance to see his sister, that was _all_ he wanted.

 

He hands Bellamy a folded up piece of paper. He opens it and it contains a location and a time.

 

“In exchange for doing something for me, I can get you into see her. Meet me there tonight and I’ll tell you the details.” With that, Shumway turns and walks off.

 

Bellamy stares a the piece of paper as he closes the door and leans against it. He didn’t trust Shumway one bit. He was the commander of the Ark guard and he’d turn anyone in if it got him a reward. But… if there was even a _chance_ that he could get him into see Octavia, then he was going do whatever it took.


	2. The Deal

 

The location on the note was way down to the end of the Ark, deep in Arrow Station. Bellamy had been down here to do some cleaning occasionally, and this station was always quiet and there was barely anyone around. He finds the right number and knocks on the door.

 

Shumway opens the door wide and gestures for Bellamy to come inside.

 

“I was worried you might not come,” he says. “I know what you think of me, you have no reason to trust me.”

 

“You have your ways to get around the law, and if you _can_ get me into see my sister, then I’m in,” Bellamy replies harshly.

 

Shumway gives a sly smile. “I was counting on that.”

 

Bellamy takes in the room and immediately recoils. The room is empty, except for two chairs in the middle. They looks like dentist chairs and he worries about what he’s gotten himself into.

 

“Look,” Bellamy says. “I do _desperately_ want to see my sister, and I know you know that, but if you’re going to experiment on me, like _Frankenstein’s monster_ …” One of the books he’d read to Octavia, one of her favourites. “Then I’ll figure out another way to see her.”

 

“No experiments or torturing involved,” Shumway says calmly.

 

Bellamy raises his eyebrows. “Sorry, but I don’t entirely trust anything you say.”

 

“What I need you to do is safe, I swear that on my life,” he says. “That trustworthily enough or you?”

 

Bellamy pauses and observes him. He knows how much Shumway values his life above everything else, so he chooses to believe him. For now.

 

“How about I start with what I need you to do,” Shumway says, taking a seat on the edge of one of the operating chairs. “There’s a rebellion forming on the Ark, a group of us who don’t agree with the way the Chancellor is running things.”

 

He didn’t particular like Chancellor Jaha either. The strict rules, of any crime being punishable by death if you’re an adult, and locked up if you’re a minor. A crime so _small_ as simply being born, like his sister. It wasn’t fair. Nothing about life on the Ark was fair.

 

“We want to snuff him out, but in order to do so we need to get rid of the other members of the council and his closest advisors.”

 

Bellamy sighs, hoping that this isn’t what he thinks it is. “You want me to assassinate them so that you can take over?”

 

“No, nothing like that,” he says. “What we need you to do is something quite simple, and I have to say you’re the perfect person for the job.”

 

Bellamy shakes his head. “Get it on with it.”

 

“We have reason to believe that the senior engineer, Jake Griffin, is hiding some critical information regarding this space station. We want to know what it is. His wife is on the council, these are two important people to the Chancellor, and we want them gone. We believe that this information may be able to make that happen… just like that.” He snaps his fingers together.

 

“And _how_ am I supposed to do that?” he asks.

 

“He has a daughter, a few years younger than you,” Shumway continues. “Get close to her, find out the information her father is keeping and report back to us.”

 

Bellamy smirks. “I appreciate your faith in me, but I don’t think that getting close to a girl I’ve only _just_ met will get her to tell me some top secret information.”

 

“That’s where this comes in,” he says, standing up and running his hand along a briefcase sitting on one of the chairs. “You’re young and good looking, I’m sure she won’t be able to resist you. But you’re right, she’s a smart kid, she won’t tell a big secret to someone she’s just met. That’s why you’re going to get the information from her dreams.”

 

Bellamy is entirely confused. “Excuse me?”

 

“When people are subconscious, they’re more likely to open up and reveal things.” Shumway opens the briefcase. “This is a _Portable Automated Somnacin IntraVenous Device_ , PASIV device for short.” He picks up an IV drip from the machine. “This will administer a drug to both the dreamer and the subject, allowing them to share dreams.”

 

“So,” Bellamy says, scratching his head. “If I’m understanding correctly, you want me to seduce this girl and then invade her dreams?” Something didn’t sit right with him about that.

 

“Exactly,” he says, pulling out two of the drips. “If you get this information out of her then I can get you into see you sister. Do we have a deal?”

 

Bellamy runs it all through his head. He wanted more than anything to see his sister. Although using this girl to get information for a rebellion didn’t entirely feel right. But… he didn’t _know_ her. And if it meant sacrificing a part of his morality in order to be reunited with his sister, he was willing to do it. His sister was the only family he had left.

 

“Deal,” Bellamy says, after taking few moments to think it through. “I’m in.”

 

Shumway smiles and hands him an IV drip. “Hook yourself up, it’s time for your first training session.”


	3. Lesson One

When Bellamy opens his eyes, he’s back in Prison Station. Right where he was earlier in the day, lining up to try to visit his sister. Except now there was no line and no one at the reception. The door to the cells was right there, unmanned.

 

He turns to Shumway. “There’s no one here, lets go in.”

 

He grabs his arm and pulls Bellamy back. “How did we get here?”

 

Bellamy pulls out of his grip. “What?”

 

“How did we get here?” Shumway repeats. “Which way did we come? Did we walk through Alpha Station? Did we take the shortcut through Factory Station?”

 

Bellamy digs around in his brain trying to remember. He remembers being back in that room and lying down on one of the operating chairs. He doesn’t remember Shumway saying that he was going to take him to see his sister right now. He hadn’t completed his end of the deal yet. That was a good question. How  _did_ they get here?

 

“I… I don’t know,” he stutters.

 

“Lesson number one,” Shumway says. “How to know whether you’re in a dream or not. In dreams, you arrive right in the middle, you don’t have to travel to or from the location. You’re just… there.”

 

Bellamy suddenly spins around and takes in his surroundings. “This… we’re in a dream? But it looks so real.”

 

“You’re in _my_ dream. I’ve been doing this for a long time, I know how to design a place as closely as possible to the real thing, but of course there is always something that gives it away.” He walks towards the door to the cells and scans his card. “Follow me.”

 

Bellamy follows and when he sees the first cells, he stops. He swallows and feels his heart begin to beat fast. So many cells, so many kids locked up for minor crimes. He shakes himself out of that daze and rushes to keep up with Shumway.

 

“What number cell is your sister in?” Shumway asks.

 

“ _One hundred and six_ ,” Bellamy immediately replies. He’d memorised the number. The one thing they’d given him after they took her. He turns and reads the numbers as they walk and suddenly _‘106’_ is there. _Right_ there. He looks to Shumway uncertainly.

 

“Go on, open it,” he says.

 

Bellamy spins the handle around and pushes the door open. He prepares himself to see his sister, his sister that he hadn't seen for over eight months. But when the door opens what he sees is not what he expects at all. His sister is not there huddled up in the corner, no…

 

Instead of a bare white cell like he was expecting, it’s the endless outside sky. There are stars close and in the distance, and the Earth millions of miles down below. His toes are hanging over the edge and he tries to inch back, terrified of falling. But he feels a hand on his back.

 

“Remember, this isn’t real,” Shumway whispers into his ear. And then he pushes him.

 

Bellamy stumbles over the edge and falls. He screams but he can’t hear anything. Everything is a blur and his arms are flailing in the air.

 

And then Bellamy jolts awake. He’s breathing heavily and he blinks away the blurriness in his eyes. He’s back in the dark room, sitting in the operating chair. He looks to Shumway who is completely calm with his eyes closed.

 

“Trippy huh?" Shumway says and he opens his eyes with a grin on his face.

 

“Yeah,” Bellamy says, running his hand through his head which is full of sweat.

 

"Wait until you get deeper.”

 

“Deeper?” Bellamy asks, scratching his head.

 

Shumway nods. “There are many levels to our subconscious, the deeper you go, the less time that passes in the real world. And then when you get into limbo… well that’s another kettle of fish.”

 

Bellamy sits there stunned. This was a lot to take in. “I… it felt so real,” he breathes.

 

Shumway looks him up and down and sees how shaken he is. “I think that’s enough for today, I don’t want your head to explode.” He stands up and disconnects himself from the PASIV machine. “We’ll continue on with these lessons, but in the meantime, I need you to get close to this girl.”

 

Bellamy’s head is still spinning from being pushed out into space. The possibility of seeing his sister, it felt so close. He wanted to believe it was real, that he was about to see her. But then it was all taken away. He rubs his eyes with his hands, trying to push it all away. _It wasn't real,_ he keeps telling himself. _None of it was._

 

“You have a shift tomorrow morning cleaning the common room of Alpha Station,” Shumway continues, handing Bellamy a pass. “She goes there a lot, she’s good friends with the Chancellor’s son. They play a lot of chess together.”

 

“The Chancellor that you plan to _overthrow_ ,” Bellamy says, a little more harshly than he meant to. He was feeling a little more level headed now.

 

“That’s the one.” He stands directly in front of Bellamy. “This Chancellor enforced the rule that got your mother executed and your sister locked up, I would have thought you’d want to be a part of this rebellion.”

 

Bellamy’s eyes flare. “Who’s to say the new Chancellor won’t enforce the _same_ rules?”

 

Shumway takes a step away. “You’ll have to take that up with Diana Sydney, and I’m in no business to arrange such a meeting.” He harshly unhooks the IV drip from Bellamy and trickle of blood goes down his arm.

 

He holds his arm. It hurts. No doubt a bruise with appear over the next few days. He was beginning to have second thoughts about what he’d gotten himself into.

 

He sighs. “If you want to see you sister then do this for me. Otherwise, get out of here and _stop_ wasting my time.” He opens the door wide.

 

Bellamy pushes himself up and fells a little lightheaded as he walks. He holds the pass firmly in his hands and hesitates in the doorway. “What’s her name?”

 

“Clarke Griffin,” he replies.


	4. Introductions

She was pretty. That was the first thing that Bellamy noticed about her.

 

He got to the Alpha Station common room for his early shift and started cleaning. He tried not to make eye contact with anyone who came in or with the guards. He just kept to himself and did his job. But he kept glancing at the doorway, waiting for her to arrive.

 

And then, around two hours after he’d started his shift, he saw the Chancellor’s son walk in, closely followed by a petite blonde girl with her hair tied back in a loose braid. That must be her. He realised he was staring and got back to cleaning.

 

He focusses on scrubbing the wall and occasionally sneaks quick glances at them. They have set up a chess board on a two seater table, just as Shumway said. In the back of his mind he knew he needed to somehow introduce himself to her, but how? There were lots of people in the room, along with the guards. How to do it without drawing suspicion upon himself?

 

When he finishes cleaning this part of the wall, he goes over to a teenage girl who is sitting alone at the long table. “Hi,” he says to her, giving her a warm smile.

 

She looks up at him and recoils when she sees his janitors uniform.

 

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” he continues. “My name is Bellamy Blake, and today and I am the janitor cleaning this room. Let me know if there is anywhere you think needs extra polishing.”

 

She forces a smile and goes back to reading her book. Bellamy goes over to couple more people and introduces himself. And then finally, he makes his way over to Clarke and the Chancellor’s son.

 

Clarke is holding a chess piece in her hands, strategically searching for the best place to put it on the board.

 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Bellamy says.

 

Clarke turns to face him and he can’t read the expression on her face. The Chancellor’s son glances at him and then looks at Clarke, whose eyes are still on him.

 

“I just wanted to introduce myself,” he says, pointing to his name badge. “My name is Bellamy Blake, I’m the janitor cleaning this room today. It seems like you guys are regulars here.” He pauses, wondering why he said that. “I mean… you seem comfortable here, it seems as though you come here a lot. So… if there is anything you think needs a bit of an extra polish, let me know.”

 

Clarke looks to him again. “Umm, thanks. We’ll let you know.” She looks awkwardly at the Chancellor’s son. “I’m Clarke Griffin, by the way, and this is Wells Jaha.”

 

Bellamy smiles to himself. Progress. “Well, it was nice to meet you both and I’ll let you get back to your game.”

 

He goes over to the other wall, one that needed a bit more of a scrub. He feels good. He’d made her acquaintance. And he didn’t embarrass himself too much. He focusses on the grime and dust and tries to put her out of his mind. There was nothing else he could do, he had to let everything happen naturally. He couldn’t force it.

 

After a while, he hears a chair scrape on the ground and turns around. Clarke and Wells have packed up their chess game. Wells has the board tucked under his arm and hugs her tightly. He couldn’t tell whether they were together in that way. From his body movements, it seemed like they were, but Clarke seemed a little more conservative.

 

Wells walks out of the room and then Clarke begins to turn around… towards him. He quickly turns back and busies himself with scrubbing, acting like he didn’t see her.

 

“Hey,” Clarke says from behind him.

 

He turns around and stands up. “Hey. Sorry I disrupted your game before.”

 

She shakes her head and grins. “Oh no, thank you. Because of that brief distraction I ended up winning.”

 

He smiles back at her. “Happy to help.”

 

She smiles at him. “You know… janitors don’t usually associate with us.”

 

“Well, I’m here to break that stigma.”

 

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “Are you?”

 

“We clean everything and no one shows us _any_ ounce of thanks. That’s why I’ve been going around and introducing myself to everyone, to break that mould, to show people that we’re just like them. We may not be doctors or on the council or anything of that sort, but we’re just as important. We’re human too, you know?”

 

Clarke nods. “I completely agree. Good on you for doing that,” she says with a warm smile. “Janitor is not exactly the _most_ glamorous job, I thought usually it was for the… less educated people. You don’t seem like that kind of person.”

 

Bellamy holds his tongue, not wanting to share too much with her. “It’s… complicated.”

 

Clarke takes a step back. “There is actually is somewhere that probably does need a good clean.”

 

She begins to walk over to the end of the long table. Bellamy follows after her. She crouches down next to one of the end chairs.

 

“There’s is this guy,” she whispers to him. “Steve, is his name. He always eats the smelliest food and is a _very_ messy eater, to say the least.”

 

Bellamy crouches down and examines the chair. There are food splatters all over it. “Gross.”

 

She nods. “He never cleans up after himself. Wells and I have tried to wipe it up, but the stains seem to be cemented in. If you could try…”

 

Bellamy stands back up. “I’m on it.”

 

He uses a concoction of chemicals and scrubs the chair as hard as he can. Clarke stands back and watches him. When he’s finished, the chair seems to shimmer, no sign of the food stains in sight.

 

Clarke runs her hand along it. “Wow. Impressive.”

 

“You’re very welcome,” he says proudly. “But with the way that Steve eats it may need a good scrub every couple of days.”

 

Clarke gives a giggle. “Well, thank you.”

 

Bellamy checks his watch. “Oh, my shift was supposed to end twenty minutes ago. I better head off.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry."

 

“No, no, don’t be. If I’d known about that stain and hadn’t cleaned it, it would have kept me up all night. I _am_ a janitor after all, cleanliness is ingrained in my brain.”

 

“Well, you’ve done a great job, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this room so clean before.” She looks around at the now almost empty room.

 

Bellamy wipes the sweat off his forehead with a clean towel. He'd put a lot of effort into scrubbing and he was exhausted. But it was all worth it. “Maybe you can put in a good word for me and I might be back.”

 

“Maybe I will,” she says, rocking back and forth on her heels.


	5. Lesson Two

Bellamy was worried that he would have to try harder to get her attention, but talking to her was so effortless. The opportunity to see his sister was feeling almost in reach.

 

When he got back to his chambers, there was a note under his door from Shumway. Lesson two was to happen tonight in the same place, same time. And there were some instructions this time, to bring an item that was sentimental to him. He found something of Octavia’s, something that she used to love playing with.

 

As he walked down to Arrow Station, he started to get nervous. He was still a little shaken from the first lesson. He was determined to be more prepared this time, but still, he was a little worried of what was to come.

 

“How’d it go?” Shumway asks when he arrives.

 

“Good,” Bellamy says. His stomach immediately falls when he sees the operating chairs. “We’re acquaintances now. And after Wells…” He pauses and realises Shumway probably doesn’t care for his name. “The Chancellor’s son, left, we had a private conversation.”

 

“Great,” he says, gesturing to the chair. “Did you bring a sentimental item?”

 

Bellamy pulls the spinning top out of his pocket. “It was my sisters. She would spend hours watching it spin to distract herself from being trapped in that room. When it would fall, she’d pick it right back up again and just stare at it.”

 

Shumway takes it out of his hand. “Perfect.” He spins it on the ground. After only a few seconds it topples over. “This is your totem.”

 

Bellamy takes it back and looks at it closely. “My totem?”

 

“An item that you know well to help you differentiate between the dream world and reality.” He pauses because Bellamy still looks confused. “This spinning top _always_ eventually falls, but in the dream world, it will keep spinning. That is how you’ll know whether you’re dreaming or not.”

 

He nods. That made sense. But also, it kind of unsettled him. Could someone really loose touch with reality that much? “What’s your totem?” he asks.

 

Shumway puts his hand up and silences him. “Another rule, _never_ share your totem with anyone else.”

 

“But I shared mine wth you?”

 

“That was for training purposes only. If someone else knows the way your totem operates, then they can manipulate it in the dream. They can make it work the _exact_ way it works in the real world. And then you may truly be lost.”

 

He swallows. “Okay…”

 

“The point is, that spinning top is _your_ totem, that is all you need to worry yourself with.”

 

Bellamy lies down on the chair and wraps the IV drip around his arm. He feels the outline of the spinning top in his pocket and closes his eyes, this time trying to tell his mind that he is going into a dream. But eventually the darkness overcomes him and he loses all touch with reality.

 

When he opens his eyes, he’s in a familiar corridor on the Ark. He turns to Shumway.

 

“I’m in a dream,” Bellamy says confidently. He feels in his pocket for the familiar outline of the spinning top and lets out a breath when he feels it.

 

“Correct,” he says. “Follow me.”

 

They walk down the hallway out of Arrow Station and towards Farm Station.

Everything looks so real and rich in detail, and he has to continually remind himself that it’s not. People begin flooding down the hallway, walking in the opposite direction to them. He doesn’t get the chance to get a good look at any of them, but all of them are looking at Shumway.

 

He doesn’t know why they’re here. Why are they in this dream? He really knows so little about everything and a knot appears in his stomach. He keeps his eyes down as to not draw attention to himself.

 

Shumway glances behind at him and sees his shoulders sagging down. “They're projections of _your_ subconscious.”

 

“My subconscious?” He tries to get a better look at them but they’re walking so fast.

 

“I’m the dreamer, I created this world. You’re the subject, your mind populates it,” he explains. “I’m a stranger in your mind, you’re still wary of me and of the way I'm manipulating things. I have to be careful, if I mess with things _too_ much they might attack me.”

 

This whole thing was still completely blowing his mind. Bellamy looks up and focusses hard and tries to make eye contact with the supposed projections of his subconscious. He can’t, he is unable to look closely at their faces.

 

Shumway suddenly stops. They’re standing on the middle of the bridge between Farm and Alpha Stations. He doesn’t say a word, just puts his left hand up and concentrates hard.

 

Suddenly, the ground beneath them begins to shake. Bellamy watches with his eyes wide open as the rest of the bridge ahead of them bends upwards. He gulps and takes a step back. It keeps bending and bending, and the stretch of bridge that was ahead of them now goes straight up.

 

“What?” Bellamy breathes.

 

“Neat, huh?” Shumway says. He takes a few steps forward, towards the now upwards bridge. He puts one foot up onto it. He pauses for a moment and then pulls his other foot up. It sticks. It’s like there is glue or velcro on the wall. He begins to walk up the vertical wall with no effort whatsoever.

 

The rules of gravity obviously don’t apply in dreams like this. Bellamy keeps that in mind on how to determine what is real and what is not.

 

Bellamy sticks his left foot on, and then drags his right foot up too. He’s stands out straight, but he doesn’t feel like he’s falling. He begins to take some steps along the vertical bridge. It’s easy, it’s not difficult at all. It’s just like walking on the flat ground, although he does feels the blood begin to rush toward his head after a while.

 

Shumway disappears up the top, and when Bellamy gets there, he sees where he went. The ground bends back down and the entrance to Alpha Station is straight ahead. Bellamy turns and looks back down. The bridge was bent upwards, and then back down, like the shape of a lightning bolt almost.

 

He climbs onto the flat ground and feels a little lightheaded. That was… bizarre. He didn’t know else describe it.

 

“Now,” Shumway says. As he says it, the ground begins to shake and the bridge unbends. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, it takes a lot of brainpower to manipulate the dream world like this.”

 

The sound of the bridge bending back into place is very loud and he watches in fascination as everything goes back to normal, no trace that anything had even changed.

 

“It’s easy for me now. In our dreams we have access to more of our brains potential. I come from an architectural background, I know how things are built and how they move, and doing things like this is easy. Sometimes I don’t even know what I’m creating, it just builds itself.”

 

Bellamy nods. “I think I’m understanding things.”

 

“Good,” Shumway says, clapping his hands together and turning back to the bridge. “Now, are you ready for lesson two?”

 

He shakes his head. “I thought this _was_ lesson two.”

 

“We need to head to the room and get hooked up first,” he says, cocking his head at Bellamy.

 

“No,” Bellamy says with a confused look on his face. “We’re _in_ the dream already. This bridge just bent up and we walked up the _freaking_ wall.”

 

“You’re mistaken, Bellamy,” he says. “I know it’s confusing at first but _this_ is reality. Now come along, it’s time for your second lesson.”

 

Bellamy presses his hands to his head. He wasn’t going to give up that easily. He runs his hand along the window and it feels so real. _Get it together Bellamy_ , he tells himself. He doesn’t know what kind of game he’s playing, but he decides to play along and follow him.

 

“If this is real, then why is there nobody else around,” Bellamy asks as they walk.

 

“It’s past curfew, the only time that’s safe to have these training sessions.”

 

That did made sense. Bellamy was beginning to worry that he was losing his mind. But there was something he remembered from lesson one. The question, _how did they get here?_ They didn’t, that gave it away. They just arrived in the corridor. Right?

 

Just then, the alarms been blaring, almost deafening both of them.

 

“What’s happening?” Bellamy yells.

 

Shumway has his hands over his ears and yells to him. “We’re under attack, we need to get to safety!”

 

An explosion rips through the air, throwing Bellamy to the ground. The bridge that they just walked over has been blown to smithereens. The window is smashed and the outside air is starting to pull them out. Bellamy looks out in shock.

 

They hear lots of screaming as the corridor is flooded with people. He doesn’t get a good look at them, there is too much smoke. He begins coughing and then his arm is grabbed firmly by someone. He blinks his eyes and through the smoke sees that it’s Shumway.

 

“We need to get to the escape pods,” he says, pulling Bellamy up.

 

“Wait!” he yells, but his voice is lost in the chaos. “My _sister!_ I _can’t_ leave my sister!”

 

“There’s no time!” Shumway yells, beginning to drag him along.

 

They both run towards the escape pods and find a crowd of people lining up for them. They squeeze their way through and manage to get into one of the airlocks right before the sliding door closes, almost crushing Bellamy’s foot. There are five escape pods connected to it. They are all almost full, on four of them the doors are already closed. Up above there is a countdown until they are released.

 

_57, 56, 55, 54…_

 

Each of them has a weight limit, and the final one only has room for one more person. Bellamy was feeling a little lost and a part of him thought he was losing his mind. But if this _was_ real, he’d never be able to live with himself if he left his sister behind.

 

“You go,” he says to Shumway.

 

Shumway gives him a nod and then goes into the final escape pod. The weight limit light switches off and the door closes.

 

_45, 44, 43, 42…_

 

Bellamy looks around at all of the pods. The windows are tinted and he can’t get a good look at the people in there. He can't see their faces. That could maybe tip him off, but the windows are too dark anyway, so it doesn’t exactly prove his theory. He is alone in the airlock. He knows that when that countdown gets to zero, he will be blown out into space. He could try to open the door back into the Ark, but he knows there is no point. Soon enough the whole space station will be blown into oblivion anyway. His sister and everyone else who is not in a pod included.

 

He sits down on the floor and tries to calm his breathing and stop his body from shaking. He feels in his pocket and the familiar outline is still there. His totem, that’s what Shumway called it.

 

_34, 33, 32, 31…_

 

He gets the spinning top out of his pocket and spins it on the ground. He remembers back to when Octavia would spend her days spinning the top while she waited for Bellamy to finish work. When he’d return home, he’d find her sitting there with her chin on the table watching it spin, exactly the way he’d left her. She had nothing to do all day but wait for him and their mother to come home.

 

_24, 23, 22, 21…_

 

He stares at it as it keep spinning and spinning. He closes his eyes and wonders what Octavia is doing right at this moment. That explosion happened between Farm and Alpha Stations, Prison station is on the other side of the Ark. Although that doesn’t mean she’s safe. If anything, she’s probably in more danger. The prisoners would be the last people that they’d even think about evacuating.

 

_17, 16, 15, 14…_

 

He looks back up the escape pod, the one that he missed out on a spot for. Shumway has his face pressed against the glass and is staring at Bellamy. He looks close while everyone else looks dark and distant. Bellamy looks back down and focusses on the spinning top, which is still spinning steadily. He counts along silently and doesn’t take his eyes off it.

 

_10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4…_

 

“Three, two, one,” he whispers.

 

There is a blinding light as the escape pods launch out of the docks. The sound is deafening and Bellamy’s ears begin ringing as his body starts to feel weightless. The airlock is exposed to the open air and Bellamy is sucked out. He squeezes his eyes shut, preparing to feel the life leave his body.

 

He squints his eyes open slightly and something shiny catches his eye. He forces his eyes to blink and gets it into to focus. The spinning top.

 

It’s floating in the open air, but it’s still spinning steadily like it was back on the ground in the airlock. If he had any doubts before, now he knew for sure.

 

He puts his arms out and lets himself fall.


	6. Aftermath

Bellamy jolts awake and breathes heavily, desperately trying to catch his breath.

 

“Impressive,” Shumway says. He sits himself up from operating chair and takes the IV drip out of his arm.

 

Bellamy takes his own IV drip out and pushes himself up, dangling his legs off the edge of the chair. “Was that _really_ necessary?” he says angrily.

 

Shumway stands up a little unsteadily and grabs a towel to mop his face with it.

 

“You’re sweating,” Bellamy observes. “I thought you were used to this dream sharing thing.”

 

Shumway huffs. “I may be used to it, but that… that was stressful. My subconscious likes to test me sometimes. Being blown out of the sky like that, it’s a fear of mine.”

 

“ _I’m_ the one who was blown out of the sky, not you.”

 

“But I saw it, I created the situation… I,” he stops, not sure how to continue.

 

It was weird seeing him in a vulnerable position like this. “Was that really necessary?” he repeats. “To trick me like that?”

 

“It was all a part of the training,” Shumway says. “I gave you all the necessary knowledge you needed to determine whether it was real or not.”

 

“For a moment I thought it _was_ real,” he says, running his hands through his head. He pulls them away and notices he’s sweating too. “I was worried about my sister.”

 

Shumway hands him a towel. “But you remembered your totem, you tried to find something that was off in the dream. Sometimes it’s only once you wake up that you realise that something was strange.”

 

Bellamy thinks back and nods. “I was wary of the other people on the escape pods, I couldn’t see their faces. I thought they were just too far away for me to see clearly... but then I got my totem out and it kept spinning. That’s how I knew for sure.”

 

“I know, I was watching you. I’m very impressed by what you did,” he says. “You’ve successfully passed lesson two. Next lesson, we’ll go into the deeper levels of the dreams.”

 

“Deeper levels?” It was something Shumway had mentioned before but he didn’t even know to contemplate what that entailed. “What does that even mean? Like a dream _within_ a dream?”

 

Shumway nods. “The deeper you are, the more you can do.” He gestures to the clock on the wall. “Today we were in the dream for about an hour, but look, less than _ten minutes_ in the real world has passed.”

 

It had been less than fifteen minutes since he'd knocked on the door to this room, how was that possible? He stands up and feels a little unsteady and notices he’s shaking. That ordeal felt so realistic, it’s still so vivid in his mind.

 

“I’m going to give you a few days break before out next training session. What I put you through tonight was a lot, you need a few days to recuperate. In the meantime, keep getting close to the girl.”

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy says instinctively. He doesn’t know what prompted that, but he didn’t like her being referring to as the ‘girl’. “Her name is Clarke.”

 

Shumway narrows his eyes at him. “Keep getting closer to her. I can get you a schedule of where she is likely to be at particular times if you like.”

 

That felt wrong, even more wrong than what he was already doing. He felt intrusive enough as it is. “No, I’ll handle it.”

 

Even saying that felt wrong. She was a person, she wasn’t something to be _handled_. She was Clarke Griffin, and he was going to do all of this as respectfully as he could.


	7. Closer

Over the next few days, Bellamy continues on with his regular jobs of cleaning. In all honesty, he did need a little bit of a break after that intense training session. Ever since then he’d had nightmares of being blown out into space.

 

He got word that he’d been asked to go back to the Alpha Station common room for a shift. He assumed it was Shumway’s doing, pushing him in the right direction from afar. But that was fine, he was actually looking forward to seeing her again.

 

He gets there early and gets to cleaning. Clarke isn’t there yet. He notices someone sitting in that dirty seat. Steve, she said his name was. A skinny kid, no more than seventeen years old. He was eating a burger and there was sauce and grease dripping down his arms and going all over his clothes, and the chair. He turns away, it was quite disgusting.

 

A couple of hours later, Steve is gone, but Bellamy didn’t want to clean the seat quite yet. The idea of wiping still warm grime made him feel nauseous.

 

And then he hears her voice. He turns to the sound and in she walks through the doorway, her laugh echoing through the room. She is arm in arm with Wells, and when she notices him she stops. Her face changes, but there is still a subtle smile on her face. She waves at him with her free arm. Bellamy gives a nod back. He turns back to cleaning and smiles. It made him fell all giddy that she had acknowledged him.

 

He tries to put her out of his mind but then he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns and she’s standing right there.

 

“You’re back,” Clarke says, putting her hands behind her back.

 

Bellamy stands up and wipes the dust off his hands. He looks behind her and Wells is setting up the chess board, occasionally glancing at them.

 

“Apparently I did such a good job at cleaning this room that they asked me to come back,” he says, giving her a crooked grin.

 

“I may have had something to do with that,” she says.

 

So it wasn’t Shumway, it was Clarke who put in a good word for him. As she said she might a few days ago. He was getting closer to really befriending her, and it felt good. “I saw Steve this morning, in that seat.”

 

She turns her nose up and glances at the seat. “Gross, grease dripping from his clothes?”

 

Bellamy nods. “Very gross, I think that he will forever be a virgin, who could stand to be around him for more than a few seconds?”

 

That makes her laugh.

 

“I’m going to wait until it’s not so fresh to clean it." He leans his elbow against the wall. “The idea of even going _close_ to there when it’s still warm…”

 

“Yep, good plan,” she says, nodding. “I better…” she gestures to behind her, where Wells is staring at them with his arms crossed.

 

He nods at her. She silently turns back and heads to the table. He hears her apologising to Wells, who makes no comment. He continues cleaning the room. He notices that he doesn’t hear them speaking much, they play their game silently. Which wasn’t what it was like a few days ago.

 

When he gets around to cleaning Steve’s chair, he glances up at Clarke, who meets his eyes and smirks. It was gross, but the grime wiped away and it was clean again.

 

His shift finishes earlier today, and he packs up all of his cleaning supplies while Clarke and Wells were still deep in their game. He waves to her on his way out, and she waves back with a smile plastered on her face. Wells turns and gives him a disapproving look. He didn’t like him, that was obvious.

 

He hadn’t done anything too forceful had he? He was just being his own friendly self and struck up a conversation with her. If anything, it was Clarke who had initiated most of it. She had no obligation to come and talk to him, but she did anyway. He hopes that meant they would now be considered friends.


	8. Game On

The next day, Bellamy was busy cleaning the corridors of Hydra Station. It was around midday and he couldn’t wait to finish. He hadn’t been sleeping well, not since lesson two of dream training. His dreams turned into nightmares where he was blown out into space. He was hoping to get in some rest before his third lesson with Shumway tonight. He was exhausted from that lesson, he couldn’t not even fathom how going deeper into dreams would affect him.

 

Bellamy sweeps the floor as he walks down the corridor. He passes a guard who he doesn’t make eye contact with. When he’s out of earshot, he begins silently humming to himself. A song that Octavia used to love. He sees someone walking towards him and turns away, thinking that it’s just someone passing by, someone who won’t pay him any attention, as that is what he is used to working as a janitor.

 

“Hey,” the familiar voice says from behind him.

 

He turns around and in the dim light, her blonde hair still shines. “Hey,” he says to Clarke.

 

“I found you,” she says, her voice slightly breathless.

 

“How did you find me?” he asks. He was all the way deep in Hydra Station, miles away from her station.

 

“In all honesty,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “I’ve been searching all of the Ark for you. You’re a janitor, I figured you be cleaning somewhere.”

 

“You were looking for me?” he asks, surprised. He’d hoped they were friends, but he didn’t expect her to go on this wild goose chase looking for him.

 

She nods fast. “Umm… what time do you get off?”

 

Bellamy checks his watch. “In an hour.”

 

“I was wondering…” she starts. "If after your shift you’d want to play a game of chess with me?”

 

He wasn’t expecting that, it seemed like something that only she and Wells did together.

 

“Wells had to do something with his dad and won’t be finished for another couple of hours, so I was just wondering…”

 

“Yes,” Bellamy cuts in. “Sure.” He didn’t need her to justify it, she wanted to play a game of chess with him, it was that simple. He thought he’d be the one to initiate something lie this, but she was. Maybe she felt the same, that this whole thing was just effortless. They felt so comfortable around each other, even though they’d only just met.

 

“Great,” she says. “So… I’ll meet you in the common room in about an hour?”

 

“Sounds good,” he says as she starts to turn away. “Just a disclaimer, I’m more of a checkers person.”

 

“Oh,” she says, turning back to him. “Really? Are you sure you’re a grown man? Checkers is a _childish_ game.” She says it in a sarcastic tone.

 

Bellamy starts to open his mouth and say something about Octavia, but thinks better of it. He doesn’t need to tell her about his sister, that would just complicate things. “I’ll see you then,” he says instead with a smile.

 

He spends the rest of his shift cleaning carelessly, not paying attention to how clean he leaves things, just looking forward to his game with Clarke. He may not have time for a nap before tonight, but that didn’t worry him. Getting close to Clarke was more important than rest anyway.

 

When he gets to the Alpha Station common room, Clarke is there in her usual table with the chess game already set up.

 

“You ready?” she says as soon as he walks in the room.

 

“Game on,” he says, sitting down across from her.

 

“You go first,” she says, putting her elbows on the table and crossing her arms. “The _youngest_ should go first.”

 

She's mocking him, after their conversation earlier where she called him a child for being more into checkers.

 

“Fine,” Bellamy says, picking up a pawn and making the first move. “But I’ll warn you now, you’re going to regret giving me the first move after I beat you.”

 

She puts her chin up. “Oh really?” She takes one of her pawns and makes an identical move to his.

 

They keep playing and making small talk, not sharing much, just superficial things and such. Which was fine, but his task was to get close to her, to learn more about her. So he needs to push things in that direction.

 

“Did you want me to come back and clean here?” he asks.

 

She makes her next move as she talks. “I was just talking to my mom about how good of a job you did.”

 

“Ah,” he says, making his next move. “Because she’s on the council, that’s how I got the call to come back here.”

 

She pauses. “I never told you about my mom.”

 

“Oh,” he says, his cheeks beginning to blush.“ Griffin isn’t a very common name, I figured she was your mom, right age and…” he trials off.

 

“Of course, not many people on the Ark right?” She gives a small smile as her shoulders relax. “Easy to figure out who is related to who.”

 

“Right," he says.

 

“My mom is also a doctor,” she says, stopping mid move. “She examined your sister when she…” She puts the piece down on the board. “Octavia Blake… I figured Blake isn’t a very common name.”

 

He forces a smile but doesn’t say anything. Is this going to jeopardise anything? Now that she knows this part of his life. It shouldn't. It was big news on the Ark, considering no one else has a sibling. Mostly everyone probably knows that he is the _brother_.

 

“It’s not fair, that she was locked up simply for being born.” She watches Bellamy closely as he makes his next move. “Have you seen her?”

 

“Not since she was locked up,” Bellamy says, unable to look up and make eye contact with her. _She’s the reason why I'm befriending you_ , he's worried he'll say. He was worried about blowing his cover, after things had been going so well.

 

“I’m sorry,” she says sympathetically. “I can talk to my mom, see if there’s any way she can get you in to see her.”

 

“No,” he says firmly. How much easier that would be. But he made a deal with Shumway, and he’s worried about what will happen if doesn’t complete his end of the deal. “Clarke, I don’t want you to get involved in this.”

 

“Really, it's not a problem, I can just ask.” She takes her time on her next move. “It’s worth a try right?”

 

She wanted to help, she really did. But he felt bad enough, he didn’t want her any more involved in things than she had to be. “I really appreciate the offer, Clarke, but this is _my_ problem, I need to deal with it.”

 

“Okay,” she says, letting it go reluctantly. “I'm sorry, I just…” She looks up at him as she hesitates on her next move. “Is that why you’re a janitor? I mean, no offence, but janitor is a job you get if you’re not good at anything else. It’s the lowest rank on the Ark…”

 

Bellamy gives a small laugh. “What? You don’t think I _chose_ to be a janitor?” Even that feels absurd coming out of his mouth.

 

Clarke narrows her eyebrows at him, of course she doesn’t believe that.

 

Bellamy sighs. “I was training to be a guard. I almost got there, but then…” he trails off. “They stripped me of that role and demoted me to janitor.”

 

“Is that why you clean so throughly?” she asks. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but you do such a good job, you’re trying to be reinstated as a guard?”

 

“That’s the plan,” he says, putting his king down the end of her side of the board. He’s winning. “Although if you keep putting in good words about my cleaning I may _never_ get out of being a janitor.”

 

She looks down sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

 

“Oh no, Clarke,” he says. “I was joking. It’s fine. Cleaning in here is better than those lonely hallways.”

 

She smiles as she takes one of his bishops. “Do you live on your own? What about your dad?”

 

“I never knew him,” he says, his voice beginning to break. His father was something else entirely, another issue he’d never properly dealt with.

 

“So it’s just you, huh? Must get lonely,” she says.

 

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

 

They’re silent for the next few moves. Bellamy almost has her in checkmate, but she’s sneaky. She has a good poker face.

 

Clarke looks up and her expressions changes. Bellamy turns and sees that Wells has just walked in. He is sitting where Wells usually sits, and suddenly he feels nervous.

 

“Wells,” Clarke says as he walks over to the table. “Hey, you said you didn’t finish until four.”

 

“We finished early, I was going to surprise you,” Wells says, darting his eyes to Bellamy. “This is _our_ game.”

 

Clarke crosses her arms. “I’m allowed to play with whoever I want. I thought you weren't getting off until later so I invited Bellamy to play a game with me.”

 

Wells crosses his arms and glares at Bellamy, making him feel uncomfortable.

 

Bellamy starts to stand up. “I should probably go anyway…”

 

Clarke sticks her arm out to stop him. “ _No_. We’ve nearly finished.”

 

Bellamy slowly lowers himself back down onto the chair.

 

“ _Really_ , Clarke?” Wells says. “You’re playing a game with _him_ , a _janitor_ , instead of playing with your best friend?”

 

“You told me you were busy!” Clarke exclaims. She was almost yelling and people were beginning to stare. “We can play a game _after_ Bellamy and I have finished.”

 

Wells calms his breathing down and places a hand on Clarke’s shoulder.

 

“Wells, _please_ ,” Clarke says, squirming away from his touch.

 

“Fine,” he says. He turns and stomps out of the common room.

 

Clarke picks up a piece off the board and focusses on where to put it. “Sorry about that. Wells can sometimes be… well… sometimes he can overreact.”

 

Bellamy is silent for a moment, wondering how to word things. “Are you and him…?”

 

“Together?” She glances up at him. “No, not at all. We’ve been best friends our entire lives. He means the _world_ to me, but that’s all we are. That’s all we’ll ever be.”

 

“Does _he_ know that?” Bellamy asks. “Because it seems as though he thinks there is a chance at something more.”

 

Clarke is silent as she makes her next move, pretending to concentrate hard. “I mean, it’d be weird if we started dating right? I’m sure he feels the same way I do.”

 

“Clarke,” Bellamy says looking at her intently. “To me it seemed like he was jealous.”

 

“Jealous?” she asks, surprised. “You and I… we’re just friends…”

 

“Of course,” he says. “But seeing you hang out with another guy…”

 

Suddenly it all pieces together for her. “Oh.”

 

“You need to tell him,” he says, moving his next piece. “Because it seems as though you’re leading him on.”

 

She stays silent as she makes he next move.

 

Bellamy makes his final move, trapping her king. Checkmate. He gives her a smug smile. “I did warn you about letting me have the first move.”


	9. Lesson Three

Later that night, Bellamy goes back to Arrow Station for his next lesson with Shumway. They get settled into the operating chairs quickly, he knew how things worked now and the sight of the chairs didn’t make him anxious anymore.

 

“I made progress with Clarke today,” Bellamy says. “I’d say we’re friends.”

 

“Great,” Shumway says. “Now, we’re going to do things a little differently this time. For the first two lessons, I was the dreamer, the person who created the dream world, and you were the subject. This time, we’re switching roles.”

 

“I have to create the world?” he asks. He didn’t think he was ready for that yet.

 

He nods. “It’s easy, you’re subconscious will do most of the work, but you will consciously be able to manipulate it.”

 

“Okay,” Bellamy says, getting comfortable on the chair. He wraps the IV drip around his arm and closes his eyes, not entirely sure how he is supposed to do this.

 

"Is there a place you know, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a place you’ve been, but something you can recreate for the dream?” Shumway asks.

 

Bellamy thinks hard of somewhere he could recreate. He opens his eyes. The one that comes to mind is not a place he’s been, but somewhere he wishes he could visit. “My sister loved reading this book about the history of Earth. It had pictures of the ground. She loved the forests and rivers, places where the sun would always shine.”

 

“Good,” he says as he fiddles with the PASIV machine and presses some buttons. Bellamy wonders what he’s doing, this isn’t what he usually does. “Now, just picture that place in your mind, get the image as _clear_ as you can.”

 

Bellamy closes his eyes as the drugs start to kick in. He pictures a lush green forest with lots of trees, and a river and the sounds of the wind and water rushing. He imagines the feel of the sun shining down on him…

 

Everything changes and he feels a faint breeze. He’s never felt fresh air before, but this is what he imagines it would feel like.

 

He opens his eyes and the light of the sun almost blinds him. The sun, the grass, the trees, the wind, it felt like he really was down on Earth.

 

“Amazing,” Shumway says, pulling a leaf off a tree and examining it. “You’ve never been here before and yet you recreated it as though you have.”

 

He looks around in amazement at what he did. “I’ve read that book to her so many times and I guess the images have ingrained themselves in my mind.”

 

They walk through the forest of trees and come across a river, as Bellamy knew there would be, he was the one who designed this place. The river goes all the way across, as far as the eye can see. It didn’t seem like there was anywhere to cross.

 

“Could we swim?” Bellamy asks. He’s always dreamt of swimming, of what it would feel like to float as the the cool water rushes over his face. Unlike on the Ark, where they had terrible water pressure and limitations on how long they could shower for.

 

“We could,” Shumway says. “Anything is possible in a dream. But for the purpose of this lesson, why don’t you create a bridge over it.”

 

Bellamy stands there with his mouth wide open. How is he supposed to do _that_? Although, he _did_ create this world from his memory, how hard could creating something else be?

 

He imagines a bridge, one like the one from Alpha to Farm Station. Suddenly, it begins to build itself over the river, gradually appearing out of thin air.

 

Shumway pats his shoulder firmly and leads the way over the bridge. Bellamy follows, but suddenly something hard slams into his back.

 

“Ow!” he exclaims. He turns sees a large rock falling to the ground. “Did you do that?” he yells to Shumway.

 

He stops at the beginning of the bridge and looks back. “Projections of my subconscious.”

 

“Like the people with blurry faces?” he says, jogging onto the bridge and keeping an eye out for any more flying rocks.

 

“Exactly,” he says. “They can either be people or objects, some kind of obstacle to get in the way of the dreamer if the subject is feeling in danger. Mine are sometimes objects, and sometimes they’re people, depending on my mood.”

 

They walk to the middle of the bridge and stop. They look out at the river. The water is crystal clear with calm ripples, and the reflections of the trees andclouds were mesmerising. Everything about this place was peaceful. He wouldn’t mind living here.

 

Bellamy leans his arms on the railing. “I can’t believe this is all from my mind.”

 

“The human mind is a mysterious thing. More powerful than we can even imagine.”

 

“It feels like we’re really on Earth.” He reaches his arm down towards the water and feels some refreshing mist blow up onto his arm.

 

Shumway turns to him. “I know I’ve told you before, but you need to be careful not to get lost in your dreams. It can happen, especially when you’re somewhere as beautiful as this. Do you have your totem?”

 

Bellamy pulls his arm back and feels the pocket of his pants for the familiar outline and nods.

 

“Don’t be afraid to use it.”

 

He could see the appeal of getting lost in here. But he knew it wasn’t real, it was all an illusion, and he needed to make sure to keep that in the the back of his mind. All of a sudden, Bellamy feels exhausted.

 

Shumway looks over at him with an amused look on his face. “I told you we were switching this lesson up a bit.”

 

Even though Bellamy knows it’s all a dream, he suddenly feels afraid. What was happening to him?

 

“Don’t worry,” Shumway says. “I set the PASIV machine to give us sedatives at set times so we can go into deeper levels.”

 

Bellamy falls to ground and struggles to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t process anything. He didn’t know what was happening. The sunlight blinds his weak eyes and they close completely shut as he lets his body succumb to sleep.

 

Bellamy opens his eyes and he’s back on the bridge, but this time he’s on the Ark, not on Earth. He looks over at Shumway.

 

“Is this a dream?” he asks. He honestly couldn’t tell, he was entirely confused.

 

“You tell me,” he says.

 

Bellamy gets the spinning top out of his pocket and spins it on the ground. It keeps spinning and spinning and doesn’t stop. That was his answer.

 

“This is a deeper level?” he asks, putting the spinning top back into his pocket for safekeeping.

 

“A dream within a dream,” Shumway says.

 

“I’m still the dreamer, right?”

 

“Yes,” he says. “You’re still the creator of this dream. Try manipulating things, see what you’re capable of.”

 

Bellamy focusses on the window and tries to crack it. It works, a small crack appears. He keeps his focus on it and the crack begins to get bigger. And then suddenly, a loud roar comes from the other side of the bridge.

 

The ground begins to shake as a large crowd of people come pouring down the corridor, right towards them.

 

“Projections of my subconscious, this time they’re people,” Shumway yells to him over the noise. “They can sense that there is someone messing with the dream because you cracked the window. They’re going to try to attack you.”

 

“What do I do?” Bellamy yells frantically as they get closer.

 

“You need to to wake yourself up,” Shumway says calmly.

 

“How?”

 

“How have we woken up every other time?”

 

Bellamy thinks back. The first time, he was pushed out of the cell. The second time, he was blown out into space. What did both of those times have in common? “By falling.”

 

He struggles to remember that this is a dream, that it’s not real. He remembers what Shumway did in their training session a few days ago, how he manipulated things. Bellamy drags Shumway off of the bridge and into Farm Station.

 

He focusses his entire brainpower on the bridge. He uses all his might and it starts to work. The bridge starts to bend upwards, exactly what Shumway did in the last lesson. The crowd of people charging at them are not phased in the slightest by this strange phenomenon, although they do seem to get angrier and begin to run faster. They walk down the bridge, which now a very steep slope, with no issues whatsoever, as though they’re on solid ground.

 

Bellamy stops the bridge there, and then begins focussing on bending it back down half way, so that the bridge now bends back down on itself. He hopes that the people will fall off, or at least stall them a bit. The crowd is out of sight, but he can hear them getting closer.

 

Bellamy attaches his feet onto the bridge and they stick, just like last time. Shumway grins and he realises what Bellamy’s plan is. He follows suit, and together they walk up the bridge and stop about halfway up.

 

Hands appear at the top as the crowd of people pull themselves over. Bellamy watches as they begin to fall over the edge, right towards them.

 

_This is it, I need to do it now,_ Bellamy tells himself. He bends his legs, and then pushes off, catapulting himself and beginning to fall. He screams as he free falls and the crowd of people come falling after him.

 

Bellamy is suddenly jolted awake. He takes some deep heaving breaths and looks around. He’s back on the bridge, the one he created over the river. _I’m still asleep_ , he tells himself, _that was a dream within a dream._

 

He’s just woken up, he would usually believe that he’s back in reality. But he knows that he’s not. This is the first dream. To get back they need to wake up again.

 

Shumway is just waking up next to him and he knows exactly what to do. He climbs onto the railing of the bridge and spreads his arms out and falls. Bellamy doesn’t wait to see if he hits the water, he pulls himself up and sits on the edge. He closes his eyes and pushes himself over.

 

Bellamy feels a chilling cold impact and then wakes up breathing heavily. He feels his head and it’s wet, but not with water, sweat. He didn’t land in the water, instead he woke up.

 

“Great thinking with the bending bridge,” Shumway says, dabbing his face with a towel and throwing one over to Bellamy.

 

“Thanks,” he says, ruffling the towel through his hair. “You subconscious were relentless, they would have killed me right?”

 

He nods. “They would have tried.”

 

“Can you die in a dream?” Bellamy asks.

 

“If you die in a dream, you usually wake up.”

 

“Usually?” he asks.

 

“Yes, in most cases you will wake up by one level. If you’re in level three, then you wake back up in level two and so on. But there are cases where people have gotten so lost in the dream and have died while in limbo.”

 

Bellamy wanted to know more. “Can you tell me more about limbo?”

 

Shumway sits on the edge of the chair. “Limbo is the deepest state of infinite raw subconscious. It’s not like what we’ve been doing, there is no dreamer and subject. It’s a shared space, there are no limitations, you can create and do anything you desire.”

 

“Wow,” he breathes.

 

“Don’t get too excited, you don’t need to go there for your task. It’s a very scary thing, time moves incredibly fast there and it’s very easy to loose touch with reality. The dream can feel so real that you forget to wake yourself up and your body becomes a shell.”

 

“How do you get there?”

 

“You need a very strong sedative, and you have to die, or what would usually cause you to die, in the dream. But since you’re so heavily sedated, instead of dying, or waking up, you go deeper into your subconscious and arrive in limbo. There are other ways, but that’s how I did it.”

 

“You’ve been into limbo?”

 

Shumway nods. “I was in there for less than hour in the real world, but twenty years in the dream world.”

 

“Twenty years?” Bellamy asks. How is that even possible?

 

“Dreams don’t usually go on for that long so it’s easy to believe that it’s real. I wanted to stay… I didn’t want to leave. My wife was there…” He pauses for a moment. “But luckily I knew, and I had my totem, and I could sense when the sedative ran out. When you wake yourself up from limbo you bypass all the other levels and wake up back in the real world.”

 

He processes all that. The power of their minds, the power of dreams, was incredible. Imagine living an entire life inside your head? One so vivid and real? Imagine feeling like you lived on Earth? The closest thing they’d get to that considering they’re all stuck in space for who knows how long.

 

“Don’t get any ideas, you’re not going into limbo. You have a job to do.” He stands up and gathers up the PASIV machine. “This was our final lesson.”

 

Bellamy stands up. He didn’t feel anywhere near prepared. “What?”

 

He nods. “I’ve taught you all you need to know to achieve your goal of extracting the information from the senior engineers daughter.”

 

He feels the need to correct him, to say her real name, but decides to stay quiet.

 

“Your training is over, I think you’re more than ready to do this on your own now.” He hands the machine to Bellamy. “You’ve seen how to use this, you hook up the dreamer and subject using the respective tubes, and then you press this button in the middle.”

 

Bellamy nods. “The one that administers the drug that allows us to share dreams.”

 

“ _Somnacin_ , correct,” Shumway says. “Now, what I did today was set it to release sedatives at intervals, it’s quite straight forward to do so.” He demonstrates how to set that up. “And you can also set an alarm, if say, you only want to be in the dream for a certain amount of time perhaps. It makes a sound that is a specific pitch that you can hear while you’re asleep. It’s also another safeguard if you’re worried about getting lost.”

 

Bellamy takes it all in. He understood how to attach the IV drips, the sedatives seemed straight forward enough, and to set up the alarm was simple. But that wasn’t what worried him.

 

He takes the machine. “So… how do I… how do I get into _her_ dreams?”

 

Shumway senses his hesitance. “You said you two were friends now, so invite her over to your chambers. Sedate her if you need to, I don’t care how you do it, just hook her up when she’s asleep,” he says. “I trust you to do this Bellamy. Do this and you’ll get to see your sister.”

 

It was the reminder he needed after beginning to question whether he wanted to do this anymore. His sister, that was the whole reason he agreed to this. It was getting close to nine months, he was desperate to simply get a glimpse of her face. And this is just what he’d have to do in order for that to happen.


	10. The Griffin Family

Although Bellamy had learnt a lot through his training with Shumway, he was the person who got Octavia arrested in the first place. Should he really be working for him?

 

And Clarke. Even though they’d only just met, the thought of invading her mind like that, of sharing her dreams without her knowledge, felt wrong. But he knew it was what he needed to do if he was going to see his sister.

 

He focusses on his work over the next couple of days, thinking through how he was going to get Clarke alone while she was sleeping. He couldn’t force it, that would only make things worse. It had to happen naturally. She could come over to his chambers. But would she? Would her parents allow her to?

 

He was along another quiet corridor sweeping the floor, humming a song to distract himself, when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns and the person he was just thinking about it skipping down the hallway.

 

“Hey stranger,” she says, stopping in front of him.

 

He raises his eyebrows at her playfully. “Are you stalking me? You found me in a different corridor a couple of days ago, and now you find me here…”

 

“Yep,” she says nonchalantly. “I’m you stalker, deal with it.”

 

He smiles at her and he continues sweeping. He didn’t want the guards to think he was slacking off. “What’s up? Want another rematch?”

 

She smiles back. “Yes, I mean, one day, but I’m about to play with Wells.” She shakes her head. “That’s not why I’m here. I…” She hesitates for a moment. “I was wondering if you’d want to come over for dinner tonight? I asked my parents and they said it’s fine… I figured you must be a bit lonely and just thought…”

 

“Yes,” he says immediately. “I’d love to.” It was the perfect opportunity. Maybe he’d get a chance to…

 

“Great!” she chirps, interrupting his thoughts. She hands him a piece of paper. “Here are directions to where we live.”

 

He takes it and puts it in the pocket of his jacket. “I look forward to it.”

 

With that, she skips off. Bellamy watches her until she’s out of sight. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. Getting invited over to her chambers was the first step to staying the night.

 

Later that night, Bellamy follows the directions to where Clarke lives. The guards give him strange stares, they’re not used to seeing him in this part of the Ark. He did get changed, he’s not in his janitors clothes anymore. He’s wearing black pants with a simple blue shirt and black jacket. After some debate, he decided against bringing the PASIV machine, he wasn’t ready to use it on her yet.

 

He finds the right place and knocks on the door.

 

Clarke opens it. “Hey,” she says, a wide grin on her face.

 

“Hey,” he says back.

 

Bellamy walks in and looks around. It’s bigger and cleaner than his chambers in Factory Station. There are four individual chairs, and a white screen hanging down from the ceiling with a projector sitting on a small coffee table. He never had any such luxuries such as that in his quarters. He and Octavia had to busy themselves with other things, like books.

 

“Dad,” Clarke says, walking over to him, where he is sitting on one of the chairs reading a book. “This is Bellamy."

 

He turns and holds his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Bellamy. I’m Jake.”

 

“Nice to meet you too.” He reaches over and shakes his hand, yet all he could think was that this was the person whose life he was sent to destroy.

 

“I hear the the Common Room in our station is cleaner than it has ever been because of you,” he says, patting the seat next to him, inviting him to sit down.

 

Bellamy nervously sits down next to Clarke’s father. He glances over at Clarke who shrugs at him with a grin still on her face.

 

She sits on an chair across from them. “Dad, you should see it, it’s _amazing_ how much it shines now.”

 

“It’s not…” Bellamy starts, wanting to downplay what he’s done. He was modest, he didn’t like people praising him for things he didn’t deserve.

 

The front door opens and in walks Clarke’s mother, Abigail Griffin. He recognises her from the council. She’s carrying some boxes and places them on the small dining table, only just big enough for the four of them by the looks of it.

 

“Bellamy, you’re here,” she says.

 

Bellamy stands up and holds his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

 

Abby shakes his hand. “Abigail Griffin, it’s very nice to finally meet you, Clarke has been talking non stop…”

 

“ _Mom,_ ” Clarke says in a low voice, a tone that tells her to be quiet.

 

Bellamy raised his eyebrows at her. He wonders _what_ she had been telling them about him.

 

“I hope you’re hungry, Bellamy,” Abigail says.

 

Right on cue his stomach begins to rumble as the smell of the food wafts over to him. “You’re allowed to eat in your chambers?” he asks.

 

“The perks of being a councilwoman and doctor, and having a husband who is the senior engineer.” She gives her husband a quick kiss, who has come over and put his arms around her waist.

 

“I have to go to the Factory Station dining hall and get my meagre portion of food, based on height, weight and activity level. And then we used to have to take some for my sis…” he stops as he realises he’s rambling.

 

“I know the rationing is not ideal, but it gives everyone a fighting chance,” Abigail says, giving him a warm smile. “And don’t get too excited, I had to give your name so that we got a portion for you from our station, and your portion back in your station will be delegated to others.”

 

The food is now all set out on the table and it’s something that Bellamy has never seen before. Alpha Station is the most privileged of all the stations, and they get much better looking food than he’s ever had.

 

They all sit down, one on each end of the small square table, Bellamy next to Clarke and her parents around the other corner. He scoffs his food down fast, it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

 

“Someone has an appetite,” Jake observes.

 

Clarke giggles and points to her right cheek. Bellamy feels his own right cheek and realises there is gravy dripping down it. He was almost as bad as Steve, which is probably what Clarke is thinking. He gives her a nod as a thanks, and wipes his cheek with his napkin. He slows down his eating, not wanting to embarrass himself further.

 

“So Bellamy,” Abigail says. “Clarke has probably told you, but I examined your sister.”

 

He stops eating. Suddenly his appetite is gone. “How is she? Have you seen her lately?” He’s about to say that he couldn’t get into see her, but decides to hold back.

 

“I saw her a couple of weeks ago for a routine checkup,” she says. “She’s healthy, but she has lost a bit of weight which is normal for the prisoners, they have them on _very_ strict potion control. But from what I saw she seemed in good spirits, considering her situation.”

 

He’s relieved to hear that. She’d spent most of her life hidden underneath the floor. She was strong. She was a fighter.

 

“I’m very sorry,” she continues. “None of this is her fault, the rules on the Ark…”

 

“I know,” Bellamy says sadly. “It’s so that all of us have the best chance at surviving.”

 

“But for the crime of being born?” she says. “We’ve been working on better birth control so that nothing like your sister can ever happen again.”

 

Clarke’s mouth opens in shock. “Mom…?”

 

Bellamy shakes his head. He understands how that could seem insensitive, but he didn’t hear it that way. “No, it’s okay, I get it. Population control is important… another situation like her might doom us all. But… she’s a _sixteen year old_ girl. It’s not like she’s a fetus…”

 

“I understand completely Bellamy,” Jake says. “A person is a person, and whether she was meant to exist or not, the fact is that she does. She’s alive and she’s one of our people and therefore must be protected.”

 

Clarke puts her hand comfortingly on Bellamy’s leg. “Dad…” she starts. “Do you think there’s any chance that could talk to someone and get Bellamy reinstated as a guard? I mean, he’s a great janitor but he’d make an even better guard.”

 

Jake sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart, I’m on fragile ground as it is now. Bellamy, you seem like a very bright guy and I’m sorry for all the misfortune that has happened to your family.”

 

He appreciated that. He really did. “I don’t want anything from your family, I’m working my way back up. Clarke, I’m fine, really.”

 

“Sorry,” Clarke says, turning away and putting her head down. “I didn’t mean….”

 

Bellamy puts his hand under the table and finds hers and squeezes. She looks back up at him with a smile. They eat the rest of their meal in relative silence with some smalltalk here and there.

 

“Bellamy,” Jake says once they’ve finished eating. “Are you into board games?” He grabs a box from the bookshelf and holds it up. Some kind of game about property.

 

As he finishes helping clean the table, he turns back with a smirk on his face. “I beat your daughter in a game of chess the other day.”

 

“Uh huh,” he says, winking at his daughter. “Would you be up for a different kind of game tonight?”

 

“Dad,” Clarke cuts in. “Do you mind if… we don’t. Can Bellamy and I just go into my room?”

 

Jake arches his eyebrows at Bellamy. “No funny business, got it?”

 

Bellamy nods and stands up straight. He wanted them to know that he respected their rules. “Of course, Mr Griffin.”

 

“Please,” he says, putting the game back on the shelf. “Call me Jake.”

 

Clarke takes his hand and drags him to her room. It’s a small room, quite bare, as is everything on the Ark. There is a thin single bed in the middle and a desk in the corner. There’s only just enough room to walk around to the desk, it was a very tight fit for the two of them to be standing in there.

 

She closes the door behind her and leans against it. “I’m sorry, they can be…”

 

“Oh no, they’re very nice,” he cuts in.

 

“Some of the things they said about your sister,” she says, plopping down onto the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, don’t be.” he says, sitting down next to her.

 

She turns to him. Her face is close, their noses are almost touching. “They seem to like you.”

 

He suddenly gets butterflies in his stomach. Her parents liked him, that’s an important step in a relationship. Is that was this was? It’s what it was supposed to be, what this deal was supposed to entail.

 

Clarke twists and leans over to get something off the desk. She brings back a small book and flips through it. There are drawings on the pages.

 

“You’re an artist,” he says, admiring the careful pencil strokes.

 

Clarke nods. “It’s my favourite thing to do. When I’m drawing everything else slips away.” She hands it to Bellamy.

 

He carefully flips through the pages. Lots of drawings of the Ark and the view of the sky out the windows. Some portraits of her family, and herself, and of her and Wells when they were younger. And then he gets to the drawings of Earth. Lots of trees and grass, all of it so detailed he feels that he could almost touch them.

 

“They’re beautiful,” he says, stopping on a page of a tall pine tree.

 

“The ground, that’s the dream,” she says, Laying back on her bed, she puts her arms up and moves them around like she’s drawing. “They said one hundred years right? Only three to go and we might _actually_ be down there.”

 

He watches her, the way her arms sway is mesmerising. “My sister was fascinated with Earth too.”

 

She sits up and looks at him intently.

 

“We have this history book, with pictures of Earth, and she loved looking through it.” He remembers the time when she became obsessed with the section in the book about lava, and insisted that he play _‘the floor is lava’_ game with her. He smiles at the memory. “Plus she also loved stories like Iliad and Prometheus, and the Red Queen, which was her favourite.”

 

“Hopefully one day I’ll get to meet her,” Clarke says.

 

Bellamy frowns, suddenly feeling doubtful. “Does anyone who is reviewed at eighteen actually get to live?”

 

She nods. “It _can_ happen. And your sister’s crime isn’t even her fault, how can they blame her for being born?”

 

He nods, wanting every fibre in his being to believe her. “Hopefully she’ll live to see Earth for real one day.”

 

Clarke wraps her arms around him. “She will. I’m sure we all will.”

 

Bellamy smiles and goes back to looking at her drawings. They end up spending hours sitting on her small bed, just taking and laughing, about anything and everything. Bellamy at times tries to pry a bit, but she wasn’t in the mood to talk about her parents and their jobs. But they were bonding, and that was really all that mattered. The information he needed to get was to be extracted in her dreams anyway, and he was heading in the right direction to be able to do that.

 

Clarke’s bedroom door opens a crack and her father pops his head in. They’re lying on the bed on their sides, it was the most comfortable place to be in her small room. They both jolt up when they hear the door open.

 

“Bellamy, it’s almost curfew, you should probably get going,” Jake says.

 

He sits up straight. “Right, yes I should, I’ve got an early shift tomorrow.”

 

Clarke sits there and pouts. They were both having a great time and as much as he wishes he could have stayed over, tonight was a great start.

 

“I had a great night, Clarke,” he says, taking her hand and helping her up. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

 

She wraps her arms around him. “Me too.”

 

Clarke stands in the doorway of her chambers as he walks away. When he’s almost at the end of the corridor he looks back, and her blonde hair is still visible in the faint light.

 

He smiles to himself. They got to know each other better and sooner or later he’d be able to get into her dreams. He was one step closer to seeing his sister. It was simple. His task was _simple_. He kept having to remind himself. He just had one thing to do and then he'd be able to see her.

 

And yet he couldn’t shake the immeasurable amount of guilt that was filling his entire body.


	11. Now is the Time

Over the next few days, Bellamy keeps his distance from Clarke. Things were moving fast, a bit _too_ fast, and he wasn’t ready to do what he knew he needed to do.

 

_Invite her over, hook her up while she’s asleep, get the information and then you’ll get to see Octavia_ , is what he kept running through his mind. But yet, he hated the thought of doing this to Clarke. If he did this, there is no doubt that Shumway would tear her whole family apart. Exactly the same thing that he had done to his family.

 

Her parents were wonderful people. Her mother was a doctor and was doing so much good on the Ark. She was healing people and helping create new medical technologies that would very beneficial for so many people. And her father was an engineer, one of the people who made sure the Ark continued orbiting up in space. And he was also everything he wished he had in a father.

 

He needed to get over his fears and see her again, so he decides to walk by the Alpha Station common room on his way back to his chambers after an early afternoon shift. The closer he gets, the faster his heart begins to race.

 

She is there, with Wells, as deep down he knew she would be. He’d actually timed to walk past at around the time when he presumed she’d be leaving.

 

“Bellamy!” she says, waving over when she notices him.

 

Wells turns and looks at him, but he doesn’t look angry, not in the way that he did the other day when he found him playing chess with Clarke.

 

“Hey,” Bellamy says, giving a low wave to her, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself.

 

Clarke walks over to him. “Hey, I was going to come and look for you anyway.”

 

“I’ve just finished a shift, about to head back to my quarters,” he says, giving her a warm smile.

 

Wells walks up. “Hey man,” he says, holing his hand out, the chess board tucked under his other arm. “Sorry about the way I acted the other day.”

 

“Nah, it’s cool,” Bellamy says, shaking his hand firmly. He didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.

 

“I should not have reacted like that, I’m sorry,” Wells says, and he sounds very genuine.

 

Bellamy smiles to himself and gives subtle grin to Clarke. She must have talked to him. He lets go of Wells hand and stands there awkwardly.

 

“We cool?” Wells asks him.

 

Bellamy looks at Clarke who has a hopeful look on her face. “We’re cool.”

 

Wells smiles and then points at him. “Are you into football? My dad has recordings of a bunch of historic games. Maybe we could watch one together sometime?”

 

“Sure,” Bellamy says, forcing a smile. In all honesty, he wasn’t much into sports. But he’d be up for it, after all it’s not very common for someone from Factory Station to get the chance to watch a football game.

 

“Cool, man,” he says, giving Bellamy a pat on the back. “Well I gotta go. Good game, Clarke. I’ll be in touch about that football game, Bellamy.”

 

Bellamy puts his arm up in a wave and then turns to Clarke when he’s out of view. “That is sure a big change.”

 

Clarke bites her bottom lip. “I talked to him and told him how I feel. You were right, he did want to be more than friends.”

 

“You’re both on equal grounds now?” he asks.

 

She nods confidently. “We’re best friends. We’ll _always_ be best friends.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. That meant that Wells would not be an obstacle now, he was free to pursue Clarke and get this information without having to worry about him.

 

“You got any plans tonight?” she asks him, rocking back on forth on her toes.

 

He shakes his head. “Nope, just me and a book. Why, do you have something more _exciting_ in mind?”

 

“Well…” she says, dragging out the word. “My dad is desperate to play this board game with you.”

 

“Oh really?” he says, raising his eyebrows.

 

She nods fast. “He was very upset that we didn’t get to play the other night.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t just want an excuse to have me over?”

 

She punches him playfully. “There’s that too, but my dad really does want you over,” she says, craning her neck to check the clock in the common room. “They don’t get off work for another hour or so, we could go to my quarters now and have some time alone first… if you like?”

 

Bellamy likes the sound of that, but looks down at his appearance. “Uh, yeah, sure. But let me change out of these dirty clothes first.”

 

Clarke hooks her elbow in his, and he flinches away at the pain. “Oh sorry.”

 

The bruise on his left elbow is very obvious. It’s purple with hints of black and yellow. And it is _very_ painful.

 

Clarke looks at it with furrowed brows. “What happened?”

 

Bellamy massages it but it doesn’t help. Even though it had been days since his last lesson with Shumway, it did not seem like it would heal anytime soon. “Cleaning injury,” he says, brushing it off. “It’s fine.” He holds out his right arm and she hooks hers through.

 

“Let me escort you to your quarters, Mr Blake,” she says, putting on a terrible accent.

 

“You don’t know the way,” he says.

 

“Well, you’ll show me the way while I escort you.”

 

“That’s not…” he says, shaking his head. “That’s not what escorting means.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, I’m intrigued to see what Factory Station living quarters are like.”

 

They walk arm in arm through the corridors to Factory Station. Some of the guards give him disapproving stares as he goes past. He recognises a couple of them as people who were cadets when he was. They’re probably wondering how a guy who was demoted to janitor was with a girl from Alpha Station.

 

Bellamy gets his key card out and buzzes the door open. He walks into the familiar room as Clarke looks around. It’s a small square room with very dim lighting. There is a two seater dining table and two fold up chairs, a small bookshelf stuffed with very well read books, and the uncomfortable concrete bunkbeds.

 

“It’s… small,” she observes.

 

“Very small,” he says. “It’s big enough for just me though, but when it was the three of us, it did get _very_ crowded.”

 

Her eyes dart to the floorboards, to the one that is boarded up. Octavia’s hiding spot. Bellamy couldn’t bear to look at it anymore so he had to nail it up or he would keep opening it, expecting Octavia to be there. To be _right_ there. But of course she never was.

 

“I’ll just get changed,” he says, watching where her eyes are moving. “Feel free to look around, have a look through the bookshelf.”

 

He changes into some more respectable clothes, and finds the PASIV machine that he had hidden behind the sink in the tiny bathroom. He didn’t want anyone to find it, his quarters were routinely inspected and he wouldn’t know how to explain the machine if they found it.

 

When he comes out, he finds Clarke sitting on the edge of the lower bunk, flipping through a history book about Earth. The one that Octavia loved, the one with all the photos. He sits down next to her.

 

“Wow,” she says as she looks at the coloured photographs. “Earth sure was beautiful.”

 

He nods in agreement. “It sure was.”

 

She looks up at him. “Mind if I borrow this one, it would be great reference for drawings.”

 

“Of course,” he says, standing up and taking her hand. “Let me escort you to _your_ quarters, Miss Griffin.”

 

She smiles and lets him pull her up. They walk arm in arm until they get to Clarke’s chambers. He watches as she pages her mom, telling her that he is staying for dinner. Pagers, another thing that Alpha Station members have that he never had the luxury of having. He's never had any way to contact anyone remotely. It always had to be with hand written notes or in person.

 

Clarke finds the board game and Bellamy helps arrange it on the dining table. It’s a game he’s not familiar with. The game he and Octavia played the most together was checkers, and occasionally they’d play chess but that was a bit too advanced for her when she was very young. He looks at the back of the box, it seems to be a game where you own houses and properties and the winner is the person who owns the most. He wasn’t sure how good he’d be at it.

 

Clarke settles down on the couch and switches the projector on to some old show her dad has recordings of. She puts it on quiet, so that it’s just background noise. Bellamy had never seen it before and was half paying attention to it. He was intrigued by what it was about.

 

Clarke gets her sketchbook and a pencil that is almost on it’s last legs. It’s very small, the size of her pinky finger, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. She opens the Earth history book onto a page and holds it open with her knee while she balances the sketchbook on her lap. She begins to draw.

 

They make smalltalk, but mainly Bellamy just watches her. She is so at peace when she’s drawing and her careful pencil strokes are captivating. She’d opened the book to a photo of a beach, the sand full of footprints and small waves washing onto the shore.

 

When she finishes drawing, she rips the page out of the sketchbook and signs her name and the date on the back. Then she holds it out towards Bellamy.

 

“For you,” she says.

 

He takes it and stares at it. It’s beautiful. He knows that photo well, and this drawing was an immaculate copy, with some slight personal touches that Clarke had made. He studies the fine details of it and gets it etched into his mind so that maybe this could be the place he’d create for her when he… suddenly he begins to feel nauseous, once again unsure of what he’d gotten himself into.

 

“One day, I’m _certain_ that we’re going to get down there,” Clarke says.

 

“Thank you, Clarke,” he says, holding onto the piece of paper tight with a smile on his face.

 

They watch the TV silently for a few minutes, and then the door opens and Clarke’s mother walks in, carrying boxes of food.

 

“Bellamy, glad that you could make it again,” she says.

 

He rushes over to help her put the boxes on the table, on the space they’d left bare. “Thank you for inviting me again.”

 

After they’d gotten all the food out, the door opens again and in walks Clarke’s father.

 

“Bellamy, looking forward to our game.” He puts his jacket on the coat rack and comes over and joins them.

 

They each sit at the table, with the board game filing up most of it and their food balanced right on the edge. Bellamy eats his food slowly as the rules of the game are explained to him. It was a lot to take in, but he understood the gist of most of it.

 

They had to each choose a piece and he chose the top hat. Clarke was amused by that and kept commenting about how good he’d look wearing one. He thought otherwise though, that wouldn’t suit him at all. Clarke chose the dog as her piece, and whenever she’d lose a property or get sent to jail, he’d make a _woof_ sound at her. Every time he did that she’d punch him in the shoulder.

 

He got really into the game and didn’t find it too difficult to keep up with all the rules. He became greedy, stealing properties off of the others, mainly Clarke. But he joked that would mean she’d feel the need to visit him, which he didn’t think was a bad thing at all.

 

They lose track of time and then finally a winner is crowned. Jake. This is his favourite board game after all, he’d been playing it since he was a child. But Bellamy was proud of how well he’d done considering it was his first time playing.

 

He glances at his watch and his stomach drops. “Oh crap,” he says, scrambling up. “It’s past curfew. I better go. I might be able to talk my way through the guards.”

 

“Oh no,” Clarke says. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, I can escort you back,” she says, giving him a wink, a callback their conversation earlier. “I can explain it to them.”

 

“Bellamy, I don’t want you to have to deal with any drama,” Jake says. “I should have better prepared for how long the game would take, this is all on me. You’re welcome to spend the night here.”

 

He glances at Clarke and his heart starts beating fast. Stay the night… that’s what he wanted right?

 

“That would actually be great,” he says, exhaling away all his fears. “The last thing I need is more reasons to be demoted further.”

 

“I’ll find some extra blankets,” Abigail says, going over to the linen cupboard.

 

“Mom,” Clarke says. “The spare mattress will _just_ fit in my room. Bellamy has an early shift tomorrow morning, I don’t want him to have to sleep on one of those chairs.”

 

Abigail glances at her husband.

 

“Okay,” Jake says. “But, you keep the door open an inch,” he says, eyeing Bellamy. “And remember that I can come in at _any_ moment.”

 

Bellamy stands up straight. “Of course.”

 

He smiles and grabs his shoulder firmly. “Good game, Bellamy.”

 

The thin blow up mattress is all set up in Clarke’s room, only just fitting in the area next to her bed and desk. There was barely any floor space to stand in there anymore. Abigail had found a spare oversized shirt and pants for him to wear, and he and Clarke got settled into her bedroom. Jake placed a shoe in the doorway to to keep it open a crack.

 

Bellamy and Clarke were lying on their sides, looking at each other in the darkness.

 

“Did you have a good time playing that game?” Clarke whispers.

 

“Better than spending the night alone, that’s for sure,” he whispers back, smiling at her.

 

“I’m glad,” she says rolling over onto her back. “Goodnight, Bellamy.”

 

He rolls over onto his back but doesn’t take his eyes off her. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

 

Bellamy closes his eyes but doesn’t try to sleep, instead he listens to Clarke’s breathing and waits until it sounds even. He leans up on his elbow and looks at her. Her eyes are closed and he can hear some faint snores. She’s asleep. Now was his chance. If he was going to do this, it had to be now.


	12. That’s The Dream

Bellamy quietly stands up and shuffles his way over to the door and peers out. There was no movement, he couldn’t hear any noise. He’d just have to trust that her parents were fast asleep.

 

He crouches down and carefully gets the PASIV machine out of his satchel, and also the picture that Clarke drew. Through the faint light coming through the crack of the open door, he looks at it. The sand, the water, the rocks… the design of it comes to the front to his mind.

 

He craws back onto the mattress and kneels over the bed. Clarke is lying on her back with her left arm outstretched outside of the covers. He lightly brushes his fingers over the inside of her elbow. His hands are shaking slightly and he worries it will wake her. He waits a moment, but she doesn’t move.

 

He opens up the PASIV machine. He sets it to administer a small amount of sedative at the beginning, just because this is Clarke’s first time and he doesn’t know how her body is going to react. He takes the first IV drip and gives it a good flick. He wraps it around his bruised arm and inserts the needle. He only feels a small prick, his body was used to this now.

 

But hers wasn’t and that worried him. He takes out the second IV drip and carefully wraps the strap around Clarke’s elbow. The tiny needle goes into her skin.

 

He lies down and gets comfortable, with the PASIV machine in close reach. He glances at the door, hoping that her parents don’t come in while they’re hooked up. He doesn’t need long, he’s hoping they’ll be in there for five minutes at most.

 

He presses the button on the machine to administer the drugs. His body starts to relax and as he drifts off, he imagines the feel of the sand between his toes, the sound of the waves, the crystal clear blue sky…

 

When he opens his eyes, he’s on the beach he was just imagining. The place that Clarke drew, the photograph from the book.

 

And then he sees her. Somehow, she’s even more beautiful in dreams. She’s facing away from him, walking along the sand with her arms outstretched, letting the breeze drift over her. It’s almost silent, with the faintest sound of the waves crashing in the water.

 

“The ground, that’s the dream,” he yells out to her.

 

She flips around, startled, but then softens when she sees him. “It’s beautiful.”

 

He runs over to her and takes her hand. They walk towards the water and let it wash over their bare feet. It feels divine, unlike anything he’s experienced before.

 

“You’re here,” she says. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I’m dreaming about you when we’ve been spending so much time together.”

 

“Oh you’re _dreaming_ , are you?” he says, smirking at her. “How do you know this _isn’t_ real?”

 

“Because we’re on the ground,” she says, frowning. “It can’t be real, but I wish it were.”

 

He leads her along to the rocks on the edge of the beach. They climb up a little way and settle down onto some flat ones. There is a phenomenal view of the water from up here, the ocean going out as far as the eye can see, seeming to meet the sky in the distance. Back in the other direction is a dense forest, similar to the place Bellamy had created in his final lesson with Shumway.

 

“One day we’ll get here,” Bellamy says.

 

Clarke turns to him with an adorable smile on her face. “I know we will. We’ll figure out a way. Let’s just hope the ground looks like this and not some _post apocalyptic_ nightmare when we get there.”

 

Bellamy brushes her hair out of her eyes. “I hope so too.”

 

Clarke pushes his arm down. “I…” She shakes her head. “There are things I’m afraid of… that…”

 

He takes her hand gently. This was his chance. “Is this about your dad? Is there something he’s dealing with at work?”

 

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not about that. It’s…” she hesitates. “I’m afraid of getting close to you because then I could screw things up and… I’m afraid of losing you. But here… none of that can happen because…” She leans forward fast and kisses him.

 

Bellamy is taken aback, but yet he can’t help himself from melting into the kiss. Clarke pushes him back against the rock. She pulls aways for a moment and looks into his eyes. He’s breathless, he doesn’t know how to process all the feelings that have arisen inside of him.

 

He wanted this, he couldn’t deny that even if he tried. But it felt wrong. He knew this wasn’t real. But he wished more than anything that it were.

 

The truth of this moment was that he was invading her mind. He was seeing all of her deepest secrets, her most prominent desires. It felt wrong on so many levels. But it also felt so right because this is what he wanted to. But he couldn’t let himself get lost in this dream, he needed to wake himself up.

 

Clarke leans back in to kiss him again. Bellamy allows it for a moment and then pulls away. He looks at her, her beautiful bright blue eyes are looking at him in confusion. He glances towards the water.

 

He smiles at her. “What do you say about going for a swim?”

 

She opens her mouth and looks down at the water. “I don’t know how to swim.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, you can do anything in your dreams,” he says softly.

 

She considers that that for a moment and then jumps up. Bellamy watches as she pulls her top over her head and then takes her pants off. He couldn’t look away, but yet in the back of his mind he knew this was wrong. This was _her_ dream, a safe space for her to process her feelings. And here he was, watching _all_ of it…

 

She climbs down off the rocks and stands with the water washing over her feet, unsure about going in further.

 

Bellamy stands up. He could pretend that this is real. That this is real and everything else is a dream. He feels the spinning top in his pocket and considers spinning it, to remind himself, but he already knows the truth. Of course this wasn’t real. How could anything be _this_ perfect?

 

He pulls his top over his head and takes his pants off. He notices Clarke watching him and feels exposed and vulnerable. He _needed_ to wake up. He thought he could do this, that he could simply get the information for Shumway out of her easily. But what he was doing to her, and the fact that she had _no_ idea…

 

He couldn’t do this. Not to Clarke. Not to someone that he had grown to care deeply about.

 

He climbs down to a lower rock and stands with his toes over the edge and looks down at the waves crashing below. He turns around and lets himself fall backwards. The impact of the refreshing water sends a shock through his body.

 

Bellamy wakes up and retches, thinking that his lungs are full of water. But they’re not, because none of that was real. Before he gives himself a chance to catch his breath, he unstraps the IV drip from his arm.A tiny trickle of blood appears on his bruised arm which he wipes it away with his finger.

 

He quietens his breathing down and looks over at Clarke. She’s still asleep. He carefully unstraps the IV from around her arm and takes the needle out. A thin stream of blood trickles down her arm. He holds his thumb firmly over it and gets a tissue to wipe it away.

 

He gathers up everything and puts it back into the briefcase. He puts it under the bed, just for now, as Clarke is beginning to stir. He gets back under the covers and closes his eyes.

 

All of a sudden, Clarke gasps and sits up. He jumps at the sound. She scratches her arm, right in the spot where the needle was in, but she notices that he is awake and doesn’t even look down at her arm.

 

“Oh sorry, I…” she says as she runs her hands through her hair.

 

“Nightmare?” he asks.

 

She shakes her head and smiles. “No. Just a dream. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

 

“It’s okay,” he says, beginning to settle back into a comfortable position.

 

“Bellamy,” she says, her voice husky from sleep.

 

“Yeah,” he whispers.

 

She pulls herself over to the edge of her bed and leans down to him. Bellamy can’t move as he realises what may be happening. He's not sure how to react after what he’d just seen in her dream. She leans down and presses her lips to his.

 

He closes his eyes and gives in. This felt even more real than it had in the dream. And despite feeling so guilt ridden about what he’d done, he _wanted_ this.

 

Clarke crawls her way off her bed and down onto Bellamy’s mattress. He leans back against the desk as she put her legs on either side of him.

 

He didn’t want her stop, but he couldn’t let this continue. Not after what he’d just done to her. “Clarke…” he starts.

 

“What?” she says, putting her hand on his chest for balance. “You don’t…?”

 

“No, no, I _do_ ,” he says. And it was true. He wanted this more than _anything_ right now and it was killing him to be lying to her. “It’s just…” He darts his eyes to the door. “Your parents could walk in at any moment.”

 

She glances at the light streaming through the crack in the door and begins to climb off him. “You’re right.”

 

He takes her hand to stop her. “And… I do want this, I do,” he says. “I just have a lot going on at the moment, with my sister and everything.”

 

“I understand,” she says, leaning down and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. She climbs back into bed and gets under the covers. Then she reaches her arm out.

 

Bellamy lies back and down and reaches his hand up to hers and massages his thumb on her palm. “Get some sleep, Clarke.”

 

“You too.”

 

Bellamy does try to sleep, to wipe it all out of his mind. Seeing into Clarke’s mind was very special, but it felt wrong to see the things that he saw. He’d done exactly what Shumway had ordered him to do. Seduce her and get into her mind. That was his task.

 

But he felt more than terrible about what he’d done and he couldn’t do it anymore. She was an amazing person and using her like this was not right. As much as he wanted to see his sister, it wasn’t worth it by doing this.


	13. This is a Nightmare

Bellamy wakes up early and gets ready to leave. As he opens the door, trying to do it quietly so he doesn’t wake Clarke, the hinges squeak.

 

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?” Clarke says, rubbing her eyes. Her hair is all over the place from sleep.

 

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he says.

 

“I don’t mind,” she says, pushing herself upright and reaching her arm out.

 

“Well, since you’re up now, I may as well say goodbye then,” he says, leaning onto her bed and takes her hand. “Get some more sleep, I’ll see you later.” He didn’t know if he meant that, he didn’t think he deserved to see her again after what he’d done.

 

She leans in close and gives him a quick kiss. “Don’t work too hard.”

 

As he emerges from her room, he finds Jake sitting at the dining table wth a cup of coffee in his hands.

 

“You’re a good man, Bellamy,” he says.

 

Bellamy couldn’t accept that. He was the _farthest_ thing from that. He had seduced Clarke and invaded her mind. He was not a good person, he’d done many things that he would never be able to forgive himself for.

 

“Clarke seems very happy when you’re around," Jake continues. “I’m very sorry about everything that has happened to your family. If there is anything you need, if you would like me to talk to someone about reinstating you as a guard, just shout out.”

 

This is the man that Shumway is going to tear down. This family was one of the nicest families he’d ever come across. Their daughter was one of the most incredible people he knew. How could he do this to them? All so that he can see his sister for a few minutes. His head starts spinning and he realises he hasn’t said anything in response.

 

“Thank you for the offer," Bellamy finally says. "But it’s not your responsibility, I don’t want to burden you with my issues.”

 

“You’re a good man,” Jake repeats. “Humble, a very rare thing to find these days. Just know that you’re welcome here anytime.”

 

“Thank you, that means a lot,” he says with a smile.

 

It did. His mother and sister were his whole life and they had both been taken away from him. Now it felt like he had a surrogate family, people he could rely on and would be there for him. But then he remembers what he did last night and he doesn’t feel so good anymore.

 

Bellamy’s satchel is heavy with the PASIV machine, the reminder of what he’d done. He couldn’t take it any more. He needed to get rid of it.

 

He didn’t care if he was late to his shift. No matter how hard he tried, he was probably never going to be promoted.

 

He makes his way straight to Arrow Station and knocks on Shumway’s door. He keeps banging loudly and doesn’t care if anyone else hears. He was done with _him_ and with _all_ of this.

 

The door opens and Shumway stands there there with disheveled hair. “Bellamy…?” he says, squinting his eyes. “Did you get the information?”

 

“No,” he says, trying to shove the PASIV machine into his arms. “I’m out.”

 

Shumway sticks his head out of the doorway and looks from side to side, then grabs Bellamy and drags him inside.

 

When the door is closed behind them, Bellamy drops the machine on the ground with a loud thump. “I’m not doing this anymore.”

 

“Did you even _try_?” Shumway says impatiently.

 

“I went into her dreams last night… and it felt wrong. I saw… things she wouldn’t want me to see.”

 

“You’ve fallen for her,” he says. His tone says that he knows it to be true. “Remember your _priorities_ , Bellamy.”

 

“No,” he says defensively, not willing to let him manipulate him. “It’s not like that… I…”

 

“Oh, it’s _exactly_ like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “You’ve fallen for her and you don’t want her to find out you’ve been using her.”

 

“She, and her family, are _good_ people…” He fights back tears that he feels coming. “I don’t want to be responsible for tearing them apart.”

 

“Don’t you want to see your sister?”

 

“I’ll figure out another way,” Bellamy says, pushing past him harshly.

 

Shumway sticks his arm out and pushes on the door. “ _No_ , we had a deal.”

 

“I _don’t_ care,” he says through clenched teeth.

 

“You know what I’m capable of, Bellamy,” he says in a low voice. “If you don’t do this then I’ll turn you in for treason and you’ll be floated. And if I’m feeling even _more_ generous, I’ll find a way to get your sister floated too.”

 

Bellamy swallows hard. “You wouldn’t…”

 

Shumway stands back and holds his arms out. “I _would._ I know people who can make that happen.” He shoves the machine back into his arms. “Get the information I need. I don’t care if you don’t use the machine, I just thought it would be an easier way, but you _need_ get this information for me. You’ll be rewarded if you do, but if you don’t hold up your end of the deal…”

 

“Fine, _fine._ ” Bellamy concedes, holding onto the PASIV machine tight. He never should have trusted Shumway in the first place. But he was desperate and his sister was his weakness. He would have done anything to see her.

 

Or so he thought. But obviously he now knew that wasn’t true. There was something that he wouldn’t do. Taking advantage of an innocent person, that had crossed a line for him.

 

Clarke had changed everything. His family had always been the only people he cared about, but he cared for her just as much as them and he wanted to protect her.

 

This whole situation had turned into his worst nightmare.


	14. Last Chance

Bellamy busies himself with his work that day. Humming to himself as he cleans and constantly reminding himself that he’s doing all of this for his sister. To be able to see her. To be able to hug her. To be able to make sure that she’s okay.

 

But there was still that one thing in the way. He had to get the information for Shumway somehow. Maybe he could get the information out of her father and keep Clarke out of it? That would keep her safe. That would be better. Jake wouldn’t want his daughter to be involved, right?

 

His thoughts are interrupted when a familiar figure comes walking down the corridor he's cleaning. She isn’t skipping like she usually does. And as she gets closer, he sees that her face is puffy and red.

 

“Clarke, what’s wrong?” he asks, putting the mop down and wiping his hands on his pants.

 

She shakes her head. “Oh it’s nothing, just my parents fighting.”

 

He takes her shoulders and feels the uneven sobs pulsing through her body. “They seemed fine last night, I didn’t notice…” Then it occurs to him what they might have been fighting about. “Was it about me?”

 

“No,” she says, her voice softening. “God _no_. No, it’s something else…”

 

He pulls her into a hug, relieved. But then he realises that their fight may have something to do with the information he needed to get. But he didn’t want to push, especially not when she was like this.

 

Clarke pulls away and wipes her eyes. “Do you mind if I hang out here for a little while?”

 

Bellamy didn’t mind. In fact, it was nice to have her there distracting him from Shumway’s threat. They make small talk and make each other laugh. She was feeling a lot better, he could tell. But in the pit of his stomach he felt sick, because he knew what he had already done to her, and what he still needed to do.

 

Once she’s feeling back to normal she heads back home, leaving Bellamy alone with his thoughts again. He runs everything through his mind. How could he get the information without Clarke being involved? Maybe he could go visit Jake at work and ask him there? Clarke would never even have to know.

 

The whole thing was hurting his head and so he decides to sleep on it. Maybe his dreams would give him the answer. Which is kind of ironic considering dreams are the whole reason he was in this mess.

 

He tried to relax by reading a book and sipping on some hot water, he’d run out of coffee and couldn’t afford anymore. He should have asked Jake for some this morning, but then he immediately feels bad. Why should the man he is going to destroy give him anything?

 

Just as he’s gotten comfortable, there is a knock on the door. He freezes. Could it be Shumway? Had he run out of time? Maybe Shumway had already turned him in for treason and the guards were here to float him.

 

He jumps up and grabs a metal rod from under the lower bunk. He could fight his way out.

 

He opens the door slightly and it’s not at all who he expects. He drops the rod behind the door and it clangs to the floor.

 

“Clarke?” he says, opening the door wide. “It’s almost curfew, _what_ are you doing here?”

 

Her hair was in it’s signature braid and her face was red and tear stained. She keeps sniffling and wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, hey,” he says soothingly as he pulls her into a hug. “It’s okay.”

 

He feels her uneven heartbeat as she cries.

 

She looks up at him. “I’m sorry, I… I couldn’t stay at home, my parents were fighting again and I…” Another wave of tears come on and he holds her tighter.

 

He couches down so that he is looking her straight in the eyes. “You’re welcome to stay here.”

 

She wipes her her eyes but all it does is spread the tears all over her face. “Thank you.”

 

He leads her over to the bottom bunk and gets her to sit on the edge. “Do you want to talk about it?” He sits next to her and puts his arm around her shoulder. “You can trust me, Clarke.”

 

Although that was a lie, he wished it were true. Maybe he could get her to say it, to tell him the secret her father is hiding. She was in a vulnerable position, obviously bursting with whatever she was holding in. If only she’d open up to him, then he wouldn’t have to invade her mind again and this would all be over.

 

She shakes her head and turns away. “I don’t want to involve you.”

 

He pulls back, this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought. “Do you want a glass of water?”

 

“Yes, thank you,” she says, giving him a small smile.

 

He goes over to the sink and gets a glass and stops with it in his hand. As guilty as he felt about taking advantage of her, he _needed_ to do this. Shumway was dangerous. He had threatened his and Octavia’s lives. All he had to do was get into her head one last time and then everyone he cared about would be safe.

 

He gets a bottle of pills out of the cupboard. The ones that would help Octavia calm down and sleep when she had anxiety about going back under the floor. Just a little bit would be enough.

 

He pulls the pill apart and drops a tiny bit into the glass and then fills it up with water. He glances at Clarke, who is looking the other way towards the bookshelf. She didn’t see a thing. He walks back over and hand her the glass. She takes a few sips and then cradles it in her hands.

 

“Things were so great last night,” she says. “I don’t know how things went so wrong.”

 

He brushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Whatever is going on, it’s not your fault.”

 

“I know,” she says. She finishes off her water and Bellamy carefully puts the empty glass on the floor. She leans back and Bellamy scooches over to let her lie down on the thin bunk. “Can you…” Her eyes begin to flutter closed. “Stay here?”

 

“Of course,” he whispers. He lays down and wraps his arms around her. They bothbarely fit on the bunk. They were close. _Very_ close.

 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says as a more tears run down her cheeks.

 

“You have nothing to apologise for.” He wipes some of the tears away. “I could tell you a story, if you like.”

 

He eyelids begin to close more heavily. “That would be nice.”

 

“My sister loved all the classic stories about ancient Rome and the battles that went down there,” he starts.

 

“Sounds fun,” she says wearily as the drugs kick in some more.

 

“I know it’s very dark subject matter,” he says, giving a laugh. “My sister was like that. _Is_ ,” he corrects himself. “One day I hope you can meet her.”

 

“Me too…” she says, as she starts to doze off.

 

Bellamy stays quiet for a few moments, keeping his arms wrapped around her. The drugs kicked in fast. Bellamy keeps watching her as her breathing evens out.

 

This whole thing was wrong. What had he resorted to? _Drugging_ her? When she was upset and vulnerable? How was this moral? How could he live with himself after doing this? But that was the point. He wanted to live, that’s why he needed to do this. And once it was all over he’d tell her everything. He didn’t care anymore about whether she hated him, so long as she was alive and safe.

 

He taps on her shoulders and waves his hands in front of her face. No movement. He finds the PASIV machine and sets the sedative to distribute so that this time, they can go to a deeper level. That might be easier to get the information from her. He hooks up one IV line to his arm, and then carefully inserts the second one into Clarke's.

 

He climbs back onto the bunk and puts his arm around her. He reaches down and presses the button on the machine, sending the drug through the tubes. He closes his eyes and lets himself revel in this peaceful feeling, he hopes, for the last time.


	15. Dreaming Together

When Bellamy opens his eyes, he’s back at the beach where they were last night. He finds Clarke sitting on the sand next to the water. She has a sketch book in her hand and is drawing the view of the ocean.

 

“Hey,” Bellamy says as he joins her.

 

She looks up from the page and her eyes beam when she sees him. “We didn’t exactly get to finish our swim yesterday, did we?”

 

“No,” he says with a grin on his face. “We didn’t.”

 

She puts her sketchbook carefully on the sand and stands up. She strips down to her underwear without a care in the world, and then hesitates at the edge with the water washing over her feet. Just like she did last night. “I’ve never swum before.”

 

He strips off his clothes too and then takes her hand. “You’re dreaming, it doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to.”

 

She looks out at the water but is still too afraid to take a step forward.

 

“Together?” Bellamy says.

 

She squeezes his hand. “Together.”

 

They both run into the water towards the waves and Bellamy leads her out further to a calm section of water. They float in the calm ripples and Clarke seems to be enjoying herself, not concerned by her earlier fear of not knowing how to swim,

 

After spending some time in the water, they come back to shore. Bellamy leads her to a tree and they lie down under the shade.

 

Bellamy is in control of the dream, he knows that he can manipulate it to his will. And so he creates a sunset, like the ones that he fantasises about. The sun begins to go down and colours fill the sky.

 

“Wow,” Clarke breathes, the sky reflecting in her eyes.

 

Bellamy darkens the sky and makes stars begin to appear. He can’t get over how happy she looks. The stars appear to be twinkling. And then, a shooting star flies past.

 

“Make a wish,” Bellamy urges her.

 

Clarke closes her eyes. Bellamy watches her for a moment, and then he too closes his eyes, which are suddenly feeling very heavy, and wishes for sleep.

 

When he opens his eyes, the stars are still out but it’s darker. And they’re not lying underneath a tree anymore, they’re seeing the stars through glass. He rolls over and Clarke is sitting on the hard metal floor with her legs tucked underneath her. They’re in a room on the Ark.

 

_It worked,_ he thinks to himself. They’re in a deeper level.

 

“Clarke?” he says.

 

She turns to him with bloodshot eyes, then turns back towards the window. “Earth feels so close… I can _almost_ touch it.”

 

The Earth was a big bulging sight outside the window. Much closer than it usually is, that’s one way he knew they were still dreaming.

 

“Bellamy,” she says, her voice staring to break slightly. “I…”

 

He kneels down in front of her and takes her hands. “It’s okay, Clarke. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

 

“I can’t get it out of my head,” she says, the words coming out between sobs. “My dad… he found a flaw in the Ark’s oxygen system.”

 

Bellamy hearts catches in his chest but he stays silent.

 

“The Ark is dying,” she whispers. “Less than a year left.”

 

He swallows. This isn’t the kind of news he was expecting. “Your dad is smart, he’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

 

She shakes her head. “No, this time is different, there is no way to fix it.” She pauses as tears start to fall. “The council wants to keep it quiet but he wants to go public. He thinks the people have a right to know.”

 

Bellamy knows that if someone disobeys orders like that, there is no lenience towards them. “He’ll be floated if he does.”

 

“I know.” She leans her head against his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d do… if it is made public, then everyone will panic. But if it’s kept quiet, they’ll just enforce stricter laws… meaning more _innocent_ people like your sister will be locked up. More people will be floated to save resources.”

 

He didn't know how to comfort her. She was right to be upset. All he could do was hold her as she cried.

 

“I’m sorry to lay this all on you,” she says. “Everything is a mess.”

 

He kisses her forehead and looks back out at the stars. “What did you wish for?”

 

She stops sniffling and looks up at him. “To find a way to get to the ground so that no more people on the Ark have to die.”

 

It was an honourable wish, one that was very true to who she was. Even in her subconscious, the good of the many was always at the forefront of her mind.

 

They sit there in silence, just enjoying the view of Earth which is so close, yet so far. He now had the information that Shumway so desperately needed. He did what he said he’d do. But once he passed this information onto him, what would he do with it? What would happen to Clarke’s father?

 

Bellamy was getting too far into his head, such is being deep in ones subconscious. He needed to wake up.

 

“Clarke,” he says, as they begin to start floating into the air. He grabs her hand to steady her.

 

“What's happening…?” she says, spinning around with her free arm spread wide.

 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door to the room. Someone pushes it open but it only opens a crack. Peoples heads pop through and Bellamy understands who they are. He’s messing with things too much, Clarke’s subconscious are becoming suspicious.

 

He focuses on bringing the gravity back and they fall. Clarke screams, but he holds onto her hand tight. They don’t land on the floor, they wake up back up under the tree where the sun has just set.

 

Bellamy pulls Clarke up and leads her up the rocks next to the water. He turns around so they’re facing towards the trees and inches back further until their heels are just hanging over the edge.

 

He grips onto her hand tighter. “Together,” he says.

 

“Together,” she repeats.

 

They both lean back and let themselves fall into the water.

 

Bellamy jolts upright and manages to calm his breathing down relatively fast. He’s done this multiple times now that it isn’t such a shock to him anymore. Clarke stirs next to him and he prepares for her to wake up, but the sedatives are still in her system. All she does is roll over onto her side and begin snoring softly again.

 

Bellamy takes the needle out of his arm, and then carefully takes Clarke’s out. It’s not bleeding, but it is very red and raw. It’s been irritated, she must have been scratching it.

 

He stands up, careful not to wake her, and packs the PASIV machine up. He puts it in his satchel and climbs back next to her.

 

He wishes it wasn’t like this. That this was not the last night they’d get to spend together. But once he'd passed the information onto Shumway, and when she found out the truth, things would never be like this again.


	16. Is it Over Now?

Bellamy’s nerves were on fire and he couldn’t sleep. Not with what he knew now. Not when he knew what he had to do.

 

In the morning, after he’s gotten ready for work, he leans under the bunk to get his satchel and feels a tug on his shirt.

 

“Hey,” Clarke says wearily.

 

“Hey,” he says, crouching down next to the bunk. “How did you sleep?”

 

“Fine,” she says, giving a small smile. “Because you were there.”

 

He brushes his fingers through her hair, maybe for the last time. “I have to go, but you can stay here for as long as you like. But I do think you should go home and see your parents.”

 

She nods, pulling him closer. She kisses him and both of them melt into the kiss. This was _real_. It felt real, because it was. As great as things were in the dream world, nothing compared to the real thing.

 

He pulls away, a little too fast. Not because he didn’t want this, but because of what he was about to do. “I better go.”

 

She nods and bites her bottom lip. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Bellamy picks up his satchel and stops with his hand on the door handle. He takes one last look at her, knowing it may be the last time she ever looks at him like this.

 

He heads straight down to Arrow Station. He knocks on the familiar door and Shumway invites him in. Bellamy notices his exposed arm and all the track marks and bruising over it. He was glad to be done with this, he didn’t want his body to end up like that.

 

“I did it,” Bellamy says, pushing the briefcase into his arms. “I got the information you want.”

 

“Great,” Shumway says, taking the machine with a look of pride on his face.

 

“There’s a flaw in the Ark’s oxygen system,” he says. “Less than a year of oxygen left.”

 

Shumway takes in a sharp intake of air.

 

“Jake Griffin wants to go public but the council have advised him not to,” he continues.

 

“The council know?” he asks, scratching his head. “He’ll be executed for treason if he does that.”

 

“That’s what Clarke is worried about.”

 

“Thank you, Bellamy. I’m sure Diana will be pleased to have this intel.”

 

What would happen to Clarke’s father once the rebellion knew what he was planning? He was scared, for Clarke and for her father, a man that he’d gotten to know. He realises he’s biting his nails and puts his hands behind his back to stop himself.

 

Shumway notices his anxious tendencies but doesn’t comment on them. “I’ll organise to get you in to see your sister.” He opens the front door to let him out.

 

But Bellamy isn’t ready to leave just yet. “I know that Jake doesn’t stand a chance whatever happens, but please tell me that Clarke will not be punished for this.”

 

“She knows this information, she is _technically_ an accessory to the crime,” he says.

 

Bellamy takes him by the collar. “She doesn’t deserve this, _none_ of this is her fault.”

 

Shumway shrinks down and puts his arms up. “Look, I can’t make any promises but I’ll see what I can do.”

 

Bellamy lets go of him but doesn’t respond. That was probably the best answer he could get out of him at this point.

 

“You’ve done the right thing, Bellamy,” he says, placing his hand on his shoulder. Trying to comfort him, as if _that_ was going to work.

 

“The right thing?” he says furiously, backing away from him. “I seduced an _innocent_ teenage girl and invaded her privacy. You may be able to live with that guilt, but it’s something that I’ll _never_ be able to do.”

 

“We do what we have to do to survive,” Shumway says calmly.

 

Bellamy is sick of his word games. Doing something like this, did he even _deserve_ to survive?

 

He stomps out of the room and slams the door behind him. He was done with _everything_. He tried to take comfort in the fact that he’d get to see his sister soon. He hoped that would keep him sane and get his mind off of everything. But as hard as he tried, nothing made him feel any better.

 


	17. Treason

As Bellamy is cleaning, he accidentally polishes a wall a bit too much that the paint begins to come off. He’s not in the right headspace to be doing this today.

 

He decides to go back to his chambers. Maybe she’d still be there. Maybe he could tell her everything now before anything happens to her dad.

 

But she’s not. There’s a note left on the table, it says his name on the front in her handwriting. He unfolds it and there is a sketch of him and Octavia. It’s a photo that he keeps next to his bed. She must have found it and sketched it. A gift for him. Underneath it says, _‘Thank you for being there for me’_.

 

HIs guilt begins to feel overwhelming. What had he done? He should have fought harder against Shumway. He should have resisted his threats. But he was afraid.

 

As he’s staring at her drawing, he hears a large sum of footsteps coming from outside the door and wonders what is going on. He opens the door and a wave of people rush past. He hears snippets of what they’re saying. _Treason. Floated. Council._ They’re the key words that stick in his mind.

 

_No,_ he thinks to himself. _It can’t be… not yet…_

 

He gets swept up in the crowd and pushes his way forward. The crowds are heading towards the airlock, and he knows that it must be true. It hasn’t even been a day since he gave the information to Shumway. Why is this happening so fast?

 

He pushes his way through, not caring if his elbows smash into anyones face. He needed to get to the front no matter what. This was his responsibility. All of it was. His sister was not his only responsibility now. There was someone else he cared about and needed to protect.

 

Through the bodies of the people, he sees her familiar blonde braid. He barges his way through to her.

 

“Clarke!” he yells, but his voice is drowned out by the crowd. “Clarke!” he yells louder.

 

Her body twitches and she tries to turn, but as he gets closer he sees the two guards restraining her arms.

 

“ _Clarke!_ ” he yells again. This time he’d managed to push past most of the crowd and he knows she can definitely hear him.

 

She struggles to turn but manages to see him out of the corner of her eye. “Bellamy!”

 

He tries to get to her but a guard stands in his way. He then he sees Abigail making her way over, holding a piece of paper up high.

 

“Let my daughter go, by order of the Chancellor,” she says to the guards who are holding Clarke.

 

The guards immediately let her go and she runs into her mothers arms. Bellamy slides past the guards and puts his hand on her shoulder.

 

She turns and falls into his chest. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m _so_ sorry.”

 

“Clarke…” he begins, but doesn’t know what else to say.

 

He turns to the front, to what everyone is fighting to see. Jake Griffin in the airlock, a countdown above his head. Less than a minute to go. For someone who is about to be executed, he looks surprisingly calm.

 

Bellamy feels something in Clarke’s hand and looks down. He unravels her fingers, she was holding very tight onto the object. It’s a watch, one that he remembers seeing her father wearing. He takes her left arm, which is shaking profusely, and secures the watch on. At least she’ll have something of her fathers to keep with her.

 

“Honey, listen,” Abigail says, pulling Clarke away from him. “You’re going to be locked up. The council thinks that you might carry on with what your father was going to do.”

 

“But she didn’t _do_ anything wrong,” Bellamy cuts in.

 

“You know how strict the rules are on here,” she says, giving him a knowing look. His sister’s crime was out of her control and yet the council didn’t care. “Even knowing the faintest bit of treasonous information is a crime.”

 

“This _isn’t_ fair,” Bellamy says. It wasn’t fair for his sister and it’s not fair for Clarke.

 

“I’ll find a way to get you out, honey,” Abigail says to her daughter. “I promise.”

 

Clarke begins sobbing but nods as confidently as she can.

 

Abigail gets a far away look in her eyes as she turns towards her husband. Clarke follows suit and watches as the countdown gets dangerously close to the bottom. They hold each other as it hits _zero._

 

The airlock doors to the outside air open and Clarke’s father is blown out into space.

 

Clarke lets out a piercing scream. She’s hysterical, her mother cannot calm her down. Abigail is upset too, but as a member of the council, she’s seen floatings before. In fact, she’s been responsible for many and was no doubt prepared for what was going to happen.

 

“It’s okay…” Abigail says, running her hands over her daughters hair, trying to comfort her. “Clarke, you’ll be okay.”

 

Bellamy is standing there in shock. He can’t believe what he just witnessed. Everything felt surreal, like he was in a dream. He wished nothing more than to be able to wake up. But he couldn’t. Because this wasn’t a dream, _this_ was reality.

 

He feels guilty about the fact that _he_ was the one who caused this. He wanted to apologise, but he knew that a simple apology could not even come close to making things better.

 

Clarke pulls away from her mother and runs back into Bellamy’s arms. He holds her tight and lets her cry into his jacket. Through some stiff strands of her hair he notices Wells pushing his way through the crowd. He stops when he sees them together.

 

Bellamy pushes Clarke away, knowing that her best friend needed a chance to talk to her. Clarke runs to Wells and buries her face in his shoulder.

 

Once they’ve had their moment together, Abigail gives a nod to the guards and they take Clarke’s arms again.

 

She tries to hold back tears as she looks at her mother. “I love you, mom.” She then looks towards Wells and Bellamy. “Take care of yourselves.” She tries to force a smile but her emotions overpower her. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

 

And then she is escorted away. Bellamy has an urge to punch the guards dragging her away. He could take them, he could. But then what would happen? Nothing in that scenario would end well.

 

He watches until she’s out of sight. Then he puts his hands into fists and has an overwhelming urge to want to _punch_ someone.

 

“My dad is okay with _this_?” Wells says angrily to Abigail.

 

“It’s the law,” she replies firmly.

 

“She’s innocent! She did _nothing_ wrong!” he exclaims.

 

Bellamy feels the exact same way as Wells. None of this was right. His head starts throbbing and he can’t stay there any longer. He fights his way back through the crowd and keeps walking and walking towards Arrow Station. There are no guards around down there, everyone was back watching the execution.

 

As soon as he hears the door unlock he forces it open, almost knocking Shumway to the ground. He takes him by the collar of his shirt and pushes him aggressively against the wall. He throws a few punches at his face. Warm blood coats his knuckles but he doesn’t stop.

 

“My threat still stands,” Shumway gargles through a mouthful of blood.

 

“Not if I _kill_ you,” Bellamy says. As soon as that comes out of his mouth, he regrets it. What had he become? When did he become a _murderer?_ No, he wasn’t one. That’s not who he was.

 

“If you kill me then you won’t be able to see your sister,” Shumway says, the blood between his teeth noticeable when he talks.

 

He was right. Bellamy stands back and turns away. He looks down at his hands, they’re covered in blood and he can’t stop shaking.

 

“You knew this was going to happen,” Shumway says.

 

Bellamy points at him with a shaking arm. “ _You_ did this! _You_ gave her this fate! She was _innocent_.”

 

“Oh please,” Shumway says, spitting blood out onto the floor. “No one on this _godforsaken_ space station is innocent.”

 

He shakes his head. “She doesn’t deserve to be locked up for simply _knowing_ that information.”

 

Shumway sighs as he dabs the blood on his face with a towel. “I’ll get you into see your sister.” He throws a towel to Bellamy. “That’s why you did all of this, remember?”

 

“It was,” he mumbles, blotting the blood on his knuckles.

 

“Yes, it was. Until _her_ ,” he states.

 

He's tempted to get angry, but slows his breathing down instead. That was _exactly_ what happened. Everything changed when he met Clarke.

 

“I can still get you in to see your sister,” Shumway says, coughing up another mouthful of blood.

 

“Can I see her too?” he asks, slightly hopeful.

 

“That wasn’t the deal. Just your sister.”

 

Bellamy puts his face into the bloody towel and lets out a muffled scream. How could he _possibly_ fix things now?


	18. Reunion

It’s only a few days later when Bellamy gets to see his sister. Everything was still fresh in his mind and he was struggling to deal with everything. What should have been a great event that was a long time coming had turned his stomach. Because he knew what he had done to get here.

 

When the door opens, the first thing he notices is that she’s grown. It had only been nine months but she was taller and noticeably skinnier.

 

“Big brother,” she says when she sees him. She rubs her eyes, unable to believe that he’s here. She jumps up off the hard, dusty ground and rushes into his arms.

 

“O,” he breathes as he runs his hands through her hair and takes in her familiar scent. The scent that was now absent from his chambers.

 

“I knew you’d figure out a way to see me,” she says into his ear. “You _always_ come through.”

 

Although this is what he wanted, more than anything, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. But he was going to try to enjoy his short time with her. Who knew when he'd get to see her again.

 

He pulls back and takes a stringy strand of her hair in his fingers. It’s no longer soft like it used to be. He wonders when the last time she washed it was. “You’ve lost weight.”

 

“They give us barely enough food.” She sighs, sinking down onto the ground. “But I’m alive, Bell.”

 

“I should have never…” he starts, but can’t go on. Taking her to that party was a stupid decision. That’s what started all of this.

 

“No, don’t apologise,” she says. “I _begged_ you to take me out. I wanted to see Earth and the moon, and I got to see them.”

 

He drops down to the ground and pulls her into another hug and they just hold each other.

 

“So,” Octavia says after a moment, puling away from him. “How did you manage to see me?”

 

“It’s… a complicated story,” he says, pursing his lips. “I don’t exactly feel good about it.”

 

She looks at him with her big childlike eyes. “I’m your sister, you’d destroy the _entire_ universe for me, wouldn’t you?”

 

That may be a bit too far, but she wasn't wrong. “I’d do anything to keep you safe, of _course_ I would. But I got someone floated who shouldn’t have been.”

 

She tilts her head to the side. “The engineer?”

 

He nods and crosses his legs, their knees touching. “You heard about that?”

 

“It was big news around here, it’s been a while since someone last got floated.” She shrugs. “Some people got really freaked out that they might have the same fate when they’re reviewed. But I’m not worried, surely they can’t float me for the crime of being _born_?”

 

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” he mumbles, biting his lip.

 

“He has a daughter,” she says, watching him closely.

 

Bellamy’s eyes light up. “You know her?”

 

“I’ve seen her around, there was a lot of chattering about her and why her father was floated.”

 

He’s not surprised that she is somewhat of a celebrity around here. Floatings usually started all kinds of rumours. “We became friends… maybe more than that,” he says, getting a faraway look in his eyes. “Clarke is her name.”

 

“You care for her,” she says. “Were you and her…?”

 

Bellamy looks up at her wordlessly.

 

She puts an arm around him. “I’m happy for you, you were never allowed to have people over because of me. I’m sorry for that.”

 

“No, O, you have nothing to apologise for.” He puts his head in his hands. “It’s my fault, it’s all _my_ fault. Clarke and I… we grew close and then I went and did _this_.” He sighs. “And now she’s locked up, because of _me_.”

 

“Bell, you’ll figure out a way to make things right. It’s what you do, it’s who you _are_. Don’t let this guilt destroy you. Find a way to make things right.”

 

He looks at his sister. She seems to have grown up a lot since he last saw her. “When did you become so wise?”

 

She smiles, showing her teeth which now have a yellow tinge to them. “You raised me, big brother. I am who I am because of you.”

 

He begins to feel tears form in his eyes. “I love you so much, O.”

 

“I love you too,” she says, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. “You’ll figure out something, I _know_ you will.”

 

He admired her faith in him, although he didn’t feel the same way. There is a beep and the door opens and in walks a guard. Bellamy lets go of his sister. He holds his hand out and she grabs onto it weakly. He turns and feels the last faint touch of her fingertips as he is escorted out of the cell.

 

He looks around at the the skybox. So many cells, so many kids the same age as his sister locked up. It wasn’t right.

 

His mind wanders to which cell Clarke is in. How close he was to her right now, yet how far out of reach she was.


	19. He Always Does

It was long before things somehow managed to get worse. Bellamy didn’t that think was even possible, but he was proven wrong.

 

He couldn’t sleep, afraid of what his dreams would show him. He couldn’t eat, his appetite had disappeared. His sister and Clarke were basically starving, so why should he have the privilege of eating after what he’d done to them? His guilt was eating him apart more and more each day.

 

As he is heading back to his chambers after a shift, he walks past the Chancellors office and hears some loud arguing. The door is closed but the sound is travelling through. He lingers around the door and tries to listen to what they’re saying but it’s all muffled. He jumps when the door opens.

 

Wells walks out. His face is red and his eyes are bloodshot. He’s been crying. He shoves his way past Bellamy without even acknowledging him.

 

Bellamy rushes to catch up with him. “Wells, what is going on?”

 

He stops and faces him. “I don’t think _you_ need to know. I was her best friend.”

 

He grabs his arm to stop him from walking away. “I care about her, please know that.”

 

He straightens up and softens. “I know you do.” He pulls him around a corner and whispers to him. “The Ark is running out of oxygen.”

 

Bellamy pretends to be shocked, even though he already knew that information.

 

Wells glances around the corner again to double check that no one else is around. “They’re sending _one hundred_ prisoners down to the ground to save energy.”

 

That’s not what he was expecting. Sending kids, who are unprepared and untrained, down into the unknown. How is that justified?

 

“My sister?” he asks.

 

Wells nods. “Clarke and your sister are both on the list.”

 

Bellamy inhales a sharp intake of breath. “But they don’t know if it’s _safe_ down there.”

 

“They’re criminals, they’re expendable, it doesn’t matter to them if they die. All they want is to save some of their _precious_ oxygen.” He spits the last words. It’s obvious he’s not fond of the decisions his father makes.

 

“We have to figure out a way to stop them,” Bellamy says desperately.

 

“There’s no point. There’s nothing we can do,” Wells says in a low voice. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the garden.”

 

With the look in his eyes and the anger pulsing through his body, Bellamy knows he has no good intentions in heading there. He realises what he’s doing. He grabs his arm and pulls him back. “You’re going to get yourself arrested.”

 

“I’m not letting her go alone,” he says adamantly. He pulls out of Bellamy’s grip and walks away.

 

Bellamy stands there dumbfounded. His sister and Clarke, both of them condemned to death. He got to see his sister, he got to have a moment with her. If that was the last time he ever gets to see her, he could live with that.

 

But Clarke doesn’t know the truth. She doesn’t know what he did. He _needs_ to tell her and apologise. He needs to tell her how he feels. He needs to try to make things right. He can’t let her die without having done that.

 

What Octavia said keeps running through his mind. He always figured out a way, didn’t he?

 

He may not be able to stop this mission or to bring Clarke’s father back, but maybe he could give her something to at least _try_ to make it up to her. A gift that she could hold with her in case she doesn’t make it out of everything alive.

 

Bellamy walks down the familiar corridor, the one that he has known very well in the last few weeks. When Shumway opens the door, he is not pleased to see him.

 

“I got you in to see your sister, now would you leave me alone,” he says, pushing the door closed.

 

Bellamy pushes it back open with all his strength. “You kept your end of the deal, thank you for that. Now I need to ask you for something else.”

 

Shumway narrows his eyes and stiffens his arms at his side.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to beat you up,” he says with an uncertain smirk. His stomach still turns when he thinks about what he did to him.

 

Shumway allows the door to open. His face is bruised and there is dried blood and cuts all over it, he still hadn’t healed from Bellamy’s episode.

 

“What do you want?” he asks impatiently.

 

“They’re sending one hundred prisoners down to the ground, my sister and Clarke included.” He crosses his arms. “You and I both know that there’s a _slim_ chance they’ll make it down there alive. No one even knows _what_ is down there.”

 

Shumway tilts his head up high and gives a laugh. “Sending kids to die in order to save oxygen, that sounds like something the council would do.” He sits down on one of the operating chairs. “This is what we’re trying to stop. There _has_ to be another way to run things on the Ark.”

 

Maybe this rebellion was a good thing, although that is not what he came here to talk about. “I figure you have privileges and ways around the law, considering you somehow got me in to see my sister. I need a favour. I’m wiling to do _anything_ for you in return.” As soon as he says it, he regrets it. That’s what he said about their last deal, and look how _that_ turned out.

 

“I’m listening.”

 

“I need you to get me into see Clarke. Get me in there when I am not being watched and let me spend an hour with her. Just… let me apologise… let me say goodbye.”

 

Shumway is silent for a moment but then his expression changes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

“And I need to take the PASIV machine and some sedatives,” he adds.

 

Now Shumway was beginning to understand. He goes over to a cabinet and ruffles around in there. “How strong of a sedative?”

 

“Enough for twenty years,” Bellamy replies.

 

He remembers what Shumway told him, about spending twenty years in the deepest state of dreaming, yet only a minuscule amount of time passing in real life. That is what he was going to give to her.

 

Everything goes silent. Shumway stops looking in the cabinet and freezes for what seems like an eternity. Eventually he turns back around, and he looks different somehow. The wrinkles on his face look more pronounced and he no longer seems like the person who threatened Bellamy’s life.

 

“You know what,” he says, wiping his hands on his pants. “I’ll get everything sorted and make it happen tonight.”

 

Bellamy is relieved that he's willing to help. That this was _actually_ going to happen. But… he was worried about what he’d need to do in return. “How much will it cost me?”

 

He waves his hand dismissively. “You’re a good man, Bellamy, don’t worry about it.”

 

He can’t believe his ears. “I don’t owe you _anything?_ Seriously?”

 

“I know what it’s like to love someone and not get the chance to say goodbye,” he says, with sadness pulsing through his voice.

 

Bellamy remembers him mentioning something about his wife only being in his dreams and wanting to stay there with her. So he _did_ know what it was like to loose someone. He wasn’t the monster Bellamy believed him to be.

 

“Thank you,” is all Bellamy manages to choke out.

 

Shumway opens the door. “Be ready to leave tonight at a moments notice.”

 

Tonight, that was sooner that he was anticipating. But he’d take it none the less. His emotions begin to overwhelm him at the thought of what is going to happen. _Tonight._

 

He stops when Bellamy doesn’t make a move to leave. “Don’t worry about it. I know what I’ve done to you, first to your sister and now to Clarke, and I’m sorry.”

 

“Such is surviving,” Bellamy says, almost bitterly, referencing something that Shumway had said after he’d passed on the information.

 

“Maybe,” he admits. “But what I did to those girls weighs heavy on my conscience.”

 

Shumway was trying to make up for what he’d done. And maybe that was all they could do. Acknowledging that they had made a mistake and trying to make things right. That is what he needed to do for Clarke.

 

Bellamy holds out his hand. “To doing better.”

 

Shumway shakes it firmly. “To doing better.”


	20. A Final Goodbye

Bellamy paces back and forth, anxiously waiting for Shumway to arrive. He was nervous about what was going to happen. About telling her the truth and about whether this plan was even going to work.

 

What was his plan? Somehow get into limbo, even though he’d never gone that deep before, and spend twenty years with Clarke there. That would be his goodbye, that was how he was going to apologise for what he’d done. She may never get to see the _actual_ Earth, but maybe she could spend a few years in a place that was almost the real thing.

 

He’d been staring at the photos in the history book for the last few hours, etching it all into his mind, trying to remember every little detail so that he can recreate it for her. He stares at the drawing that Clarke did too. The beach, the place they’d spent those last few nights together. He’ll take her everywhere, he’ll create any place that she wants to go.

 

There is a soft knock on his door and he jolts up. _This is it._ He takes a deep breath and opens the door.

 

He lets Shumway in and closes the door softly. It was past curfew and no one except for the guards were supposed to be out.

 

He hands Bellamy some clothes. “Put these on.”

 

Bellamy strips in front of him and changes into the matching guard uniforms as Shumway tells him the plan.

 

“I have the PASIV machine and the sedatives.” He pauses as he hands them to him. “Enough for _fifty_ years.”

 

Bellamy’s mouth opens in shock. _Fifty years?_ That was more than he could possibly comprehend.

 

“You have _three hours_ to be with her, not a second more. The sedatives will last for two and a half. You _need_ to be out of there in time or I won’t be able to protect you. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes,” he croaks, looking at the pills in his hand uncertainly.

 

“I’ve put the cameras in her cell on a loop and I’ll keep guard outside of the cell,” he continues. “ _Three hours_ , that is all you have. Set the alarm on the machine and don’t get lost in limbo. You _cannot_ let yourself get lost in there. Do you have your totem?”

 

Bellamy nods as confidently as he can and takes it out of the pocket of his jacket. He looks at it for a moment and then puts it into the pocket of the guard jacket. He puts the cap on his head and he’s immediately taken back to when he was a guard cadet.

 

“What if I do lose touch with what’s real and what’s not?” He was scared, that was for sure. He was not experienced with the dream world the way that Shumway was. What if he couldn’t wake up? What if he didn’t _want_ to?

 

“You’re one of the best students I’ve trained in this skill, just keep doing what you’ve been doing and you’ll be fine,” he reassures him. “But you’ll need to keep a close eye on her, she hasn’t had the training you’ve had.”

 

Bellamy swallows and nods. That was one of the things he was afraid of. Losing her.

 

“Do you remember how to get to limbo?”

 

Bellamy nods. “You need to do something that should kill you.”

 

“Alright,” Shumway says, opening the door and leading the way. “Lets do this."

 

They walk next to each other, as guards usually do. Bellamy doesn’t make eye contact with anyone. He follows Shumway’s lead and acts like he knows what he’s doing.

 

When they arrive at Prison Station, they walk straight in and no one bats an eye at them. Shumway leads the way to the cell. _413_ is the number of her cell. Shumway unlocks the door and opens it wide for Bellamy to enter. He slowly walks in as his heart begins to race.

 

Clarke is sitting with her legs tucked under her on the thin bed in the corner of the cell. He feels a rush of air as the door closes behind him. And then they’re alone. He looks around the room. There are drawings covering the walls. And the night sky, looking up at it like they were in their shared dreams, is drawn in dust on the floor.

 

“Bellamy!” Clarke exclaims. She rushes over and embraces him a tight hug. “You’re here. You’re _really_ here. I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

“I’m here,” he says, rocking her back and forth.

 

She pulls away and looks at him with tear stained eyes. She reaches up to touch his cap. “Did they reinstate you as a guard?”

 

“Not exactly…” he says.

 

“Then how did you get in?” she asks, glancing up at the cameras on the ceiling.

 

“Don’t worry, they’re switched off. We have a few hours.” He pauses. “I… there’s something I need to tell you.”

 

“There’s something I need to tell you too,” she says, cutting him off. “The reason my dad was floated… he found a flaw in the oxygen system and he was planning to go public.”

 

“Clarke, I know,” he says calmly.

 

“Of course it would have become public by now.” She looks up at him again. “Bellamy, I think Wells is the one who turned my dad in, he’s the only person I told.” She pulls away. “How could he _do_ that to my father?”

 

Bellamy shakes his head and feels a burst of immense guilt, but he needs her to know the truth. “Clarke, it wasn’t Wells.”

 

She shakes her head. “As far as I’m aware the only people who knew were my mom and Wells…”

 

“It was me,” he blurts out.

 

Clarke is taken aback and shakes her head fast, struggling to accept that as an answer. “But I didn’t tell you. How could you have known?”

 

“You _did_ tell me,” he says. “Just not when you were exactly… conscious,” That didn’t come out right at all.

 

Clarke takes a step back from him. “You _drugged_ me?”

 

“No, no, I mean… kind of.” He stops and looks at her. She’s going to hate him, he knows that. He’s accepted that.

 

“I had a dream the other night and you were there,” she says, looking down in concentration, trying to remember.

 

“I was really there,” he says, taking her shoulders, but she shrugs out of his grip.

 

“You were in my dreams?” she asks, her mouth falling open. “But… how?”

 

He holds up the briefcase. “With this machine that allows me to.”

 

She keeps shaking her head. “I… I don’t understand.” She holds her head in her hands and starts shaking.

 

“I made a deal with someone, someone who is a part of the rebellion planning to overthrow the Chancellor.” He watches her, wanting to make sure this makes sense. She needs the know the entire truth if she’s ever going to understand. “I was tasked with getting close to you and finding out the secret your father was keeping. Human’s are more vulnerable when they’re sleeping, more likely to reveal things they wouldn’t when they’re awake. If I succeeded in getting the information, then he’d get me into see my sister.”

 

“You…” She begins sobbing. “This whole time, you were _using_ me?”

 

“Yes,” he says sadly. “Clarke, I hate to admit it, but yes, I was on a mission to get close to you… but _please_ believe me that the first time I went into your dreams…”

 

“How many times?” she interrupts him.

 

“Only twice. Clarke, after the first time I didn’t want to do it anymore. I’d grown to care for you. I tried to get out of it but he threatened me. He said he’d kill me and my sister and I couldn’t let that happen.”

 

“None of it was real?” She drops down on the floor and looks at him with a dark look in her eyes.

 

He crouches down next to her. “You have no reason to believe me, I know. But I fell for you the minute I met you and didn’t want to do it. But my sister… she’s been my responsibility my entire life and I hadn’t seen her for months. I didn’t even know if she was okay, I would have done anything to see her. And I mean _anything_.” He pauses to let that sink in. “But that was until I met you. I was going to give up the chance to see her because I couldn’t bear to do this to you.”

 

She begins biting her nails as her body keeps shaking.

 

“I know you may never be able to forgive me and that’s okay, I can live with that. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters,” he continues, hoping that she’s hearing him. “I know that I can’t bring your father back, and I am never going to be able to tell how your _deeply_ sorry I am for that. I’m going to fight as hard as I can to get you and my sister out of here. I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll do _whatever_ it takes. But in case I don’t…” His voice begins to break now. “Let me give you something.”

 

She shakes her head and begins crying again.

 

He tires to put his arm around her shoulder but she shoves him away. She stands up and tries to walk away from him but he grabs onto her arm. It wasn’t right to do this, to be forceful with her. But he needed to make things right.

 

She turns to look him right in the eyes. For a moment, he thinks maybe his words have gotten through to her and she understands. But then her hand rises fast and makes contact with his cheek before he has a chance to realise what’s happening.

 

His cheek stings, like a million pins are stabbing it. It’s not just the physical pain that causes him pain, but all of the emotional turmoil involved with the slap too. His eyes begin to water. The shock of it caught him off guard. But he deserved it. He knows he did.

 

She takes one last look at him and then goes over to the far edge of bed and faces the wall with her arms crossed.

 

“Clarke, let me give you something. _Please,_ ” he begs, trying to rub the prickling out of his cheek.

 

She glances back at him. The regret and the hurt he’s feeling, all of it appears to have aged him years. His eyes feel heavy and he can feels wrinkles appearing on his face from how much the guilt was eating him apart.

 

And that’s how Clarke knew that he was telling the truth. That he was being genuine. That he meant it when he said he wanted to try to make things up to her.

 

“Okay,” she croaks. “Okay,” she repeats, more confidently. “I’m _screwed_ anyway.” Her voice sounds bitter now. “Why the _hell_ not?”

 

Bellamy is relieved that she’s willing to let him give her this. He gets the PASIV machine out and unwinds the lines and gets everything prepared. He sets the alarm on the machine for two and half hours. That will give them time to wake up and for him to get out of here without being caught.

 

Clarke comes over and watches him. “We’re going into a dream?”

 

“Yes,” he says, focussing on getting everything ready. He hands her one of the sedatives. “Take this.”

 

“What is it?” She holds the pill in her palm hesitantly.

 

“A sedative. It will last two and a half hours, that’s how much time we have.”

 

She stares at it for a moment and then swallows it, not taking her eyes off of Bellamy as she does. He can’t read her expression, and that scares him a bit. He follows suit and swallows his.

 

He leads her over to the bed. He can see that she’s a little nervous about everything. He settles on first and gets her to sit in front of him so that he can support her. She doesn’t resist, she lets him guide her into a comfortable position.

 

“Clarke, you need a totem, an item that you know very well,” he says, feeling for the spinning top in his pocket.

 

She looks around at the empty room with a frown on her face. She had next to no possessions. But then she holds up her left arm. Her dads watch.

 

He takes the IV drop and puts the needle into his own arm. And then he takes the other and starts to wrap the strap around Clarke’s arm, but she pulls away. It’s red, she’s been scratching it.

 

“That’s why my arm has been irritated,” she mumbles bitterly.

 

“Clarke,” he says. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

 

Her body relaxes as the sedative starts to kick in. She lets him put the needle in without any resistance. She even inches back into him a bit more.

 

“It’s easy to get lost in dreams,” he says into her ear. “You need to be aware of what is real and what’s not. Use your dad’s watch to determine that.”

 

She nods steadily and her head falls back lazily into his chest. He leans down presses the button on the machine.

 

Bellamy wraps his arms tightly around Clarke’s chest and leans his head back. Preparing for everything to melt away. To get lost and to try to make things right. Or at least try to somewhat make up for what he did. He was ready for their short, but long, slumber.


	21. A New World

Bellamy opens his eyes and is blinded by the sunlight. They’re back at the beach, from the history book, from the drawing. The place they’ve been in the last few dreams they shared.

 

He finds Clarke standing on the beach, letting the gentle waves wash over her toes. He makes his way over to her, carefully, knowing that she’s probably still angry at him.

 

“Clarke,” he says gently.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she says, turning to him with an unreadable expression on her face. “Too bad it’s not real.” She storms off past him.

 

“Wait…” he says, following after her.

 

A huge wave appears and lands right on top of him. He gasps at the cold temperature of it. He shakes his head, trying to get the water out of his hair.

 

Clarke has stopped and is laughing at him. “I suddenly feel _much_ better.”

 

Bellamy can’t help but smile. “It’s you’re subconscious. You know that I’m messing with your dream and you’re trying to attack me.”

 

“Well, you deserve it.” She crosses her arms and continues walking away from him.

 

Bellamy rushes to keep up with her, but more and more waves appear and crash down right on top of him. He feels like a drowned rat. He rushes after her, trying to outrun the waves but they keep catching up to him.

 

Eventually, when he’s close enough to her, the waves stop coming. “Clarke, listen to me.”

 

She abruptly stops and he almost rams into her. “And why should I do that?”

 

He walks around so that he can look her in the eyes. “I know that you have no reason to…”

 

“ _Damn_ right I don’t,” she yells. “You were really here… when we kissed under the tree, before we’d even kissed…” She presses her lips together. “And when we went swimming…”

 

“I was there for all of that,” he confirms.

 

“Unbelievable,” she mutters.

 

He grabs her arm to stop her from walking away. “Clarke, listen to me, we need to go deeper.”

 

She stops fighting against his grip. “Deeper? What does that even mean?”

 

“This is the first level of our subconscious. Do you remember when we were here, at the beach, and we were looking at the stars.” He smiles at the memory. “We saw a shooting star and you made a wish.”

 

He can see the recognition in her eyes. She remembers.

 

“And then we were suddenly on the Ark and Earth was so close. That’s when you told me about…” He stops, he doesn’t want to bring that up. “That was two levels deep. Now I want to take you to the deepest level, somewhere where we will both be in control of the dream.”

 

She is silent for a moment and then shakes her head. “No.”

 

“Please Clarke, we don’t have much time. Once we’re down there you can continue being mad at me. You can do whatever you want. We just _need_ to get down there.”

 

She frowns and looks down. “Fine. How do we get there?”

 

He takes her hand and starts leading the way up the rocks. She pulls out of his grip and instead follows him closely. They get to the top and Bellamy leads the way to the edge of the cliff. It’s very far down to the ground and that makes him feel a little queasy. He feels for the spinning top in his pocket and reminds himself that this isn’t real.

 

Clarke comes and joins him and immediately takes a step back when she sees how far it is down to the ocean. “No.”

 

“Trust me," he says. "This is what we need to do. We’ll be fine. I promised I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you.”

 

She cranes her neck and takes another quick look over the edge. Her hair is flaying wildly in the wind, her braid is almost out of it’s hair tie. She’s beautiful, even when she doesn’t know it. Even when she’s scared. Even when she’s mad at him.

 

She slides her hand into his and gives him a subtle nod. He can feel the nerves pulsing through her body.

 

They take small steps until they’re right on the edge. Bellamy takes a moment to catch his breath. It’s a long way down. This fall should kill them. But it won’t because it’s a dream. He feels the sedative start to make him feel more drowsy and knows they need to do it now.

 

But all of sudden he feels a sense of doubt. What if this doesn’t work? What if it does kill them both? He doesn’t know what to think anymore.

 

He looks at her, takes one _last_ look at her. If things don’t work out, this will be the moment he last remembers of her. “Together?”

 

She squints her eyes at him through the sunlight. She doesn’t repeat that word. He doesn’t blame her. She has every right to be angry at him.

 

Together, hand in hand, they jump off the cliff and fall down into the unknown.


	22. Limbo

They both fall… and fall… and fall. Things become distorted and the impact feels like nothing Bellamy has ever experienced before.

 

His head felt fuzzy, like there was cotton surrounding his brain. His eye sight went strange, things went all pixelated and he couldn’t get it back to normal. He felt trapped in a bubble. Like he was dying, or, something worse than death. It hurt, like a million shards of glass were piercing his body.

 

And then the impact. Landing so hard onto the ground it felt like his bones broke. The pain was so strong that he fell unconscious.

 

When Bellamy comes to, he’s completely disoriented. Everything is too bright for his eyes, and he can’t even tell whether everything is pixelated or back to normal. All he can see it white. He coughs and his throat feels raw. There is no moisture in there, it feels like he’s choking on dust. He coughs into his hand and all that comes out it white chalky dried paste.

 

He blinks his eyes and tries to get them adjusted to the light. As far as the eye can see is white. That’s all there is. But a few feet away he sees something else. A lump on the ground. He tries to stand but his legs are too weak, so he crawls his way over.

 

His eyes are back to normal now, although the blinding light makes it hard to see. But he’d know her anywhere. Her blonde hair appears to be shimmering.

 

“Clarke,” he tries to say, but his throat is so dry that nothing audible comes out.

 

He turns her over. Her eyes are closed and she’s covered in white dust. He places his hand on her neck and can still feel a pulse. He presses down on her chest a few times, and finally, she wakes up.

 

Clarke coughs, coming out in raw sputters like his were. He cradles her body and looks around. His eyes are squinted and he can’t see anything at all in the distance. As hard as he tries to concentrate, all he can see is a blank white landscape.

 

He didn’t exactly know what to expect, but he expected there to be _something_ here. Something to get them started. Instead, there is nothing. He closes his eyes and imagines that he can hear water flowing. Water dripping. A waterfall. Something. _Anything._

 

When he opens his eyes, in the distance there is a small body of water with a thin waterfall dripping down.

 

He picks Clarke up in his arms and stands up. He suddenly feels much stronger. He managed to create something and it didn’t take much effort even in the state he’s in.

 

He carries her over to the water. He cups his hands and gathers some water and tips it over her face. She begins to cough. He wipes his hand over her forehead to get the white dust off but it leaves smears all over her face.

 

He holds some more water out to her. She looks at him and opens her mouth and drinks some. He drinks some water himself and instantly his throat feels better.

 

“Where are we?” Clarke croaks.

 

Bellamy washes some water over his face and feels an instant rush of relief. “This is limbo, the deepest state of our subconscious.”

 

She cranes her neck around. “There’s nothing here.”

 

“That’s because we’ve never been here before. This is a shared dream space between us, we can create anything we desire here.”

 

Clarke begins to stand up. Bellamy supports her, helping her keep her balance. She pushes him off weakly. “How?”

 

“Just visualise whatever it is that you want and you can create it,” he says gently. “It may take you a little while to get the hang of it but I can help show you the ropes.”

 

She wanders around to the other side of the waterfall that Bellamy just created. She wobbles as she walks. Just like for him, the journey of getting here was very disorienting. He follows, but keeps his distance.

 

The waterfall seems to appear out of nowhere, it just appears out of thin air and falls into the small indent in the ground. She holds her hand out and lets the water rush over her.

 

“Clarke, anything that you want to see, I’ll create it for you,” he says. “If there are any places from that history book, I’ll make sure you get to see it.” He takes a step towards her but she steps away.

 

“I…” she says. “I think I’d prefer to be alone.”

 

Bellamy doesn’t like that idea. “Clarke, please let me you show how everything works first. Then you can go off and do anything you want.”

 

She gathers some water in her hands and throws it over her face, washing the white dust away. She shakes her head at him. “I just want to be alone.”

 

His face falls but he understands why she wants this. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

 

“It is,” she says.

 

“There are some important things you need to remember,” he says hurriedly, worried that she’ll be gone at any moment. “In limbo, time moves very fast. You need to make sure you don’t get lost in here. Use your totem, your dad’s watch.”

 

She glances at it on her wrist. “How do I use it?”

 

“Look at it,” he urges her. “It’s not working properly is it?”

 

She taps the clock face with her finger. “It’s all jumbled up.”

 

“When it’s working properly, that means you’re in the real world. When it’s not, it means your dreaming.”

 

She takes a deep breath and looks up at the whiteness above them.

 

As much as she didn’t want her to go off alone, he knew he couldn’t force her to stay. He’d done so much damage to her already. “All I want is for you to be happy.”

 

She nods, letting the water wash over her hands. She runs them through her hair and then she begins to walk away.

 

Bellamy watches her walk across the white expanse until she’s a speck of dust in the distance. He doesn’t take his eyes away until she has disappeared from his sight.

 

He sinks down onto the dusty ground and wonders when he’ll ever see her again.


	23. Forgiveness is Hard

Bellamy opens his eyes and rolls over onto his side. There are beams of light coming through from the door up on the ceiling. It’s morning. He stretches his arms out and stands up.

 

He gets his knife and carves another line into the wall. He’d been counting the days that they’ve been here. So far it had been _718_ days. And it sure had felt like it had been that long. Loneliness could make one second feel like years.

 

He keeps wondering if Clarke will ever come back to see him. But he wouldn’t blame her if she never does.

 

He gets changed into his day clothes and climbs up the ladder and pushes the trap door open. He squeezes his way up and emerges into the boat shed. He carefully places the door back down and stands back.

 

It’s a replica of the door in his chambers on the Ark. The place where Octavia was forced to spend most of her life. He felt that he deserved to feel trapped. Of course, under there was not nearly as confided as it was for her, but he wanted to know how suffocating it was to be under the floor.

 

He pulls the rug over the door to hide it and then emerges into the morning air. He lets the air fill his lungs and walks out along the pier. He settles down right on the end and dangles his feet into the water. He looks at his distorted reflection in the ripples but looks away. He looks nothing like the man he was when they arrived.

 

He focusses on his mind and lets all of his regrets run through it. It was all he had to do around here. Think off all the mistakes he’d made.

 

He had _tried_ to create a life for himself. The first thing he did after Clarke left was fix up the waterfall that made no sense. He created a source of the water and some bricks around the small body of water to make a pond. It was now the centrepiece of his little home.

 

The main attraction was the lake. It went out as far as the eye can see. There is a large railing around it, and the pier that goes out fifty feet on the right side. Next to it was the boat shed, which is where he lived. The place where he slept and wallowed in guilt.

 

The road around the pond was made of gravel and it went all the way to the end of his area. It was small and not very homely. He could have created something better, but this was all he wanted.

 

A mountain had appeared at the edge which he decided was his boundary. Very tall, almost up to the clouds, with dense trees populating it. He’d built the gravel road up to it, but he never ventured to the other side. She wanted to be left alone and he wanted to respect that.

 

The sky was always blue with clouds scattered around. And at night, the stars were always out and the moon bright. He had also noticed flashing lights in the distance which he imagines is the Ark. He didn’t create that, he assumes that Clarke did.

 

No longer was this place a white blank canvas, they had both managed to create a home for themselves.

 

Bellamy’s place was quite dull, but he didn’t mind. It felt like he was on the ground which was quite incredible. Everything looked so vivid, even though all of it was from their minds. But since it was just him on his own in this area, he let his thoughts get to him and affect him in negative ways. He didn’t have anything else to distract him. Not that he wanted to anyway.

 

Bellamy stays out at the end of the pier for hours, as has become a part of his usual daily routine. After some time, as midday passes without a sense of anything out of the ordinary, things suddenly get shaken up.

 

“Hey,” a voice that he immediately recognises says.

 

He hadn’t even heard her approach. He opens his eyes and looks towards the voice. He first sees her legs, wearing torn black jeans and black leather boots. And then he tilts his head up to her. She’s still Clarke, but she looks older. She’s wearing a bomber jacket and she’s changed her hair. It’s a lighter shade of blonde and cut into a bob, with a pink streak on the left side.

 

“Hey,” he says, his voice coming out in a croak. It had been so long since he’d talked to another person.

 

She sits down on the end of the pier next to him. She rolls her jeans up and takes her boots off and dangles her feet into the water. She swings her legs back and forth.

 

Bellamy can’t take his eyes off her. He can’t believe she actually came to see him. He thought he wouldn’t see her again until they needed to go back.

 

“You changed your hair,” he says, darting his eyes away. He hasn’t seen her for years and _that_ is the first thing he says?

 

She takes a strand and twists it around her finger sheepishly. “You’ve grown a beard.”

 

It was true, he’d let himself go. Why not look like a lumberjack if he was alone? He was all by himself and had grown tired of caring about his appearance. He bites his lip. “I like it. It suits you,” he says.

 

“The beard…” she says, a grin appearing on her face. " _Maybe_ it’ll grow on me.”

 

He forces a small laugh. “I’ve been meaning to shave it but…”

 

“Didn't see the point?” she finishes, giving him a knowing look.

 

“Yeah,” he says. He didn't see the point of much of anything lately. “You didn’t have to come here. All I want is for you to be happy.”

 

“I know,” she says, leaning back on her hands. “But I was beginning to feel a bit lonely.”

 

He knows the feeling. “It’s okay that you’re mad at me, I’ve spent all this time being mad at myself.”

 

“Oh Bellamy,” she says, her eyebrows creasing. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up about the past.”

 

He shakes his head and turns away from her. He strokes his beard and hates how prickly it feels. Maybe that’s why he let it grow. To punish himself.

 

“You know,” she says, sliding a little closer to him. “I’ve had a couple of years to think over everything, and I’m not mad at you anymore.”

 

He turns to her, surprised. He can’t believe what he just heard come out of her mouth. “You’re not?”

 

She puts her arm around his shoulder. “Everything you did was for your sister. Sometimes you don’t make great decisions, but you’ve been trying to make up for your mistakes and I respect you for that.” She places her hand on his heart. “You have a such a big heart, that is how you make your decisions. And you may have brought me down, but it’s okay, I don’t blame you for doing that. You didn’t know me, your sister was your entire world. But look at how you’ve tried to make up for what you’ve done. _Look_ at what you’ve given me.”

 

Bellamy looks up at the sky. The clouds look like perfect fluffy pillows. The sun is shining down on them and feels like nothing they ever had on the Ark. Things here were amazing, but that doesn’t change anything.

 

He takes her hand away and pulls his feet out of the water. “I can’t accept that.”

 

“Bellamy, you’re not listening.” She grabs his hand to stop him from standing up. “I _forgive_ you.”

 

“I can’t forgive myself,” he says, his eyes beginning to water. “You father, my mother, they’re _dead_ because of me. I can’t bring them back…”

 

“Oh Bellamy,” she says sympathetically. “You need to stop blaming yourself. For all we know it wasn’t even you who turned my father in. It could have been Wells, or my mother, or he could have given himself up. It doesn’t matter now. It’s all in the past. And your mothers death is _not_ your fault.”

 

He doesn’t even try to take into account what she’s saying, his guilt is overpowering everything. “My sister… _I’m_ the one who took her to that party, _I’m_ the reason she’s locked up. And look at what _I_ did to you.”

 

“Bellamy, it’s okay.” She tilts his head up so he's looking at her. “I forgive you, that’s all there is to say. The past is in the past and we can’t change things now. All we can do is move on.”

 

Still none of that gets through to him. It didn’t change the way he felt about himself. “I’m a monster,” he mumbles.

 

“You’re not a monster,” she says calmly. “You just let your heart control your decisions, that doesn’t make you a bad person.”

 

He shakes his head. He can’t accept any of that. All of the things he’s done, they _do_ define who he is. He can never take any of it back. He can’t bring back the dead. He let people corrupt him. He let his loved ones have bad things happen to them.

 

“C’mon,” Clarke says, taking his hand.

 

“No, I’ll stay here,” he says. “Go and be happy.”

 

“I want to show you something,” she says, pulling him up.

 

He lets her. Not because he wants to, but because it’s what she wanted. After all, the whole reason he did all of this was for her.


	24. Her Home

On the other side of the mountain is a completely different world. It’s green and surrounded by trees. It feels crisp and fresh, unlike his place that was stale and without any type of natural vegetation.

 

Clarke leads the way to a little cobblestone cottage. There is a verandah out the front with a wooden deck, and a chimney on top with smoke puffing out.

 

“Welcome to my home,” Clarke says, spreading her arms out wide. “I based it on this picture book my dad used to read to me when I was young. When we eventually made it down to Earth, I always dreamed I’d live in a place like this.”

 

Plants of all kinds of colours surround everything and there are trees bearing fruit. It felt surreal almost, after he’s spent so much time in his dull landscape.

 

Clarke pulls a red berry off a bush and holds it up. “This is what I used to dye my hair.” She then pops it in her mouth and a look of bliss crosses over her face. “Try one, they’re delicious. When I was ten years old my mom was using these berries as medicine for some of her patients and she smuggled a few home for me.” She smiles at the memory. “To this day, it’s still the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. I’ve never forgotten how sweet they tasted.”

 

Bellamy pulls one off the bush and puts it on his tongue. Immediately, he tastes the tart sweetness. He chews it and his mouth explodes with a wonderful unique flavour. He agrees with her, he’s never tasted something so delicious.

 

Clarke leads him to the front door and he marvels at the attention to detail on everything. The inside of the cottage is just as impressive as the outside. There’s a small kitchen to the right as you walk in, a small quaint living area with a fireplace, and a bedroom with a single bed with a ton of comfy blankets and cushions. It was small, you could see every part of the cottage as soon as you walked in the door.

 

He runs his hand along the counter as he walks along. It all feels so real what she’s created. His attention is drawn to the drawings stuck on the wall. There are landscapes of beaches and forests, the night sky full of stars, views from the ground and from space. He looks in wonder at all of them. She was very talented. He moves along to the portraits, of her mother, her father, Wells… and then he finds one of himself. In it he’s wearing the janitors uniform, which seemed like a lifetime ago. He feels a pain in his chest, a longing to go back. Somehow, he missed being on the Ark.

 

Clarke leans against the kitchen bench and watches him. “So, what do you think?”

 

He wipes his eyes to stop the emotions that the drawings brought up, and turns to her. “You’ve really created a home for yourself. You’ve gotten good at this.”

 

She shrugs. “It was easy, you just imagine what it is that you want and then it appears.”

 

He focusses on her left arm, where she is still wearing the watch. “You’re still wearing your dads watch.”

 

She nods and slides the clock face up so she can look at it. “Yes, it’s helping me to remember.”

 

“Good,” he says, feeling in his pocket for his own totem. “I’ve been counting the number of days, it’s been seven hundred..."

 

“And eighteen days,” she finishes. A familiar smile appears on her face. “I’ve been keeping track too.” She reaches out and takes his hand. “Let me show you.”

 

She leads him out the back door, past the boundary of the yard and out into a small clearing surrounded by pine trees. There are purple flowers in neat lines along the ground.

 

“Lilacs, they were always my favourite flower that was grown in the garden on the Ark.” She crouches down and sniffs one of them, then lets out a deep breath. “I plant a new one at the beginning of each day.”

 

He sits on the grass and lets his fingers run over one of the flowers, careful not to break their delicate petals. “Better than what I do, scratching a line onto the wall in my bedroom under the floor.”

 

Her head perks up at that. “Under the floor? What do you mean?”

 

There’s no point in lying to her, he may as well tell her what he’s been doing since she left him. And being this far deep, a part of him wanted her to know everything. A part of him didn’t want to keep everything to himself anymore.

 

“I recreated the door under the floor where Octavia had to hide,” he says. He notices her pained expression and continues. “It’s not a confined space like that, it’s an actual room, but I wanted to feel the way she felt.”

 

“Oh Bellamy, why do you do this to yourself?” she says. She settles down next to him, her legs brushing up against his. “It’s been almost two years.”

 

“But mere _minutes_ in the real world,” he says, shuffling away from the flowers and letting his arm fall lazily to the ground.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve had time to think over everything, you need to do that too,” she says. “It’s obvious that forgiveness is hard for you…”

 

“It’s not that,” Bellamy snaps irritability. “I don’t _deserve_ forgiveness, Clarke.”

 

“Yes, you do,” she says, moving closer, but keeping a slight distance from him. “Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone deserves the chance to make up for their mistakes. And you have. You did all of this for _me_.”

 

He looks around at the lush trees surrounding the clearing and feels the breeze wash over him. That was why he gave her this, so she could have memories of things like this to keep with her. But still, nothing could make up for what he did to her father. “Clarke… I should get going, leave you be. You seem happy here.”

 

“ _No_ , I don’t think being alone has been good for you at all. Stay here. Please.” Upon seeing his face, she keeps talking. “You can sleep on the couch, it’ll be better than sleeping where you have been, _under the floor_.” She whispers those last three words with sadness coating her voice.

 

He has to remind himself that he did this for _her,_ and if this is what she wants, then he’ll put up with it. He nods which makes her smile. She pulls him up and they stand and stare at the lilacs for a moment.

 

“How about some berries for dinner?” she chirps as she leads the way back to the cottage.

 

“No thanks,” he says tiredly.

 

“It looks like you’ve barely eaten lately.” She turns and walks backwards, watching him.

 

“We’re dreaming, we don’t need to eat,” he says matter of factly.

 

“But what is life without food?” she says. “You’ve really lived in this dream for two years and haven’t eaten a _single_ thing?”

 

He had other things on his mind. Other things to worry about. Food was the last thing on his mind. Food was the last thing he deserved. In this life and the real one.


	25. Sorrow

Under the pressure of Clarke, Bellamy stayed with her for a few weeks. He tried to be cheerful, but deep inside he was still eating himself away with his guilt. He listened to her stories. He watched her draw. He wanted to enjoy this life, but it was impossible for him to forget about the things he’d done.

 

Bellamy is outside sitting on the edge of the verandah. Although it was midday, it was dark and gloomy with steady rainfall. He's aware that he caused this to happen and couldn’t make it stop.

 

Clarke comes and sits next to him, the water bouncing up onto her as it hits the stone path. He doesn’t turn to her, doesn’t even acknowledge her arrival. Just sits there in silence enduring the dreary weather.

 

“I created this storm, Clarke, I’m sorry for ruining your home,” he says, still not turning to her.

 

“Ruining?” she asks. “After the rain it means that things will grow. There’s nothing bad about rain, Bellamy.”

 

He puts his head in his hands. “I don’t know why you still put up with me.”

 

“I _like_ being around you,” she says. “Well, maybe not this miserable shell of a person you are at the moment, but I liked hanging out with you back on the Ark.”

 

“That was before you knew the truth.” He buries his face further into his hands.

 

“True,” she says, letting out an extended breath. She’s silent for a moment, the only sounds of the rain pattering down. “But you’re still that same person. That guy with the big heart would do anything to protect the people he loves. You’re still that same person, you’ve just made some mistakes. But that’s okay, you’re only human.”

 

She leans into his shoulder and they both continue to watch the rain in silence. It’s somewhat peaceful sitting there as everything is washed away. A chance for everything to start over anew. A wonderful concept, but one that Bellamy knew was not an opportunity for him.

 

“Did I ever tell you about the time my dad made me a rainstick?” she says after a while.

 

He shakes his head indifferently, but a part of him is curious to hear another one of her stories.

 

“I was obsessed with this old movie he let me watch one time. The main characters got caught in the rain and I wanted nothing more than to have that same experience. But of course, on the Ark it doesn’t rain.” She picks a stick up off the ground. “He’d saved up some nails and bolts and spare tubing from work and he made me this… instrument.” She stops as she holds the stick up high. “When you tipped the tube up, the things inside fell down and it sounded like rain. I was obsessed with it. I even slept with it. I still have it somewhere…” she trails off, looking up at the sky as she remembers a memory that she holds very dear to her.

 

It was a sweet story. But he couldn’t help but think of anything other than the memory it brought up for him. “Your dad was a great person, I’m sorry…”

 

“No.” She stops him from saying anything more. “ _Stop_ apologising. What happened, happened, and we can’t change it now. You need to move on Bellamy. _Please._ ”

 

He shakes his head, refusing to accept that he deserves that chance. She stays with him. She tries to rub his back and help comfort him. But he refuses to let her. Eventually, she huffs and storms back inside. It had become a common thing, she’d get mad at him for being in a state like this and she’d angrily leave him be.

 

He knew he was being a pain. And she was trying. She was _really_ trying. But even though two years had passed, Bellamy kept reminding himself that it hadn’t been that long in the real world. He still couldn’t forgive himself and in turn that was making her miserable and everything about their life here was downright depressing. He’d managed to ruin her perfect world. Another thing to add to his list of regrets.

 

Bellamy walks out into the rain and collapses into the mud and lets the rain consume him. He wouldn’t even mind if he drowned.


	26. Things Always Get Better

The first few years in limbo were tough. For both of them but mainly for Bellamy and the inner demons he was battling.

 

But Clarke never gave up on him. Even when he ran away, back to his home, his bland unextraordinary home, she never stopped trying to help him.

 

He’d tried to create a barrier so they’d be separated and he wouldn’t keep ruining things for her, but Clarke refused to let him do so. She respected his wishes of wanting to stay there. But first, she planted some trees and plants and made it more homely. She allowed him leave, but she’d visit regularly.

 

Things were still not great. But at least Bellamy wasn’t with her every waking moment and constantly bringing her down.

 

It was around the _2199_ day mark when things started to get better. An epiphany of sorts happened inside Bellamy. He wasn’t sure what is was about this particular day, but he woke up feeling so much better.

 

Clarke came to visit him that day and noticed the obvious change in him. He looked more like himself, the fine wrinkles had disappeared from his face and he actually smiled when he saw her. She hugged him and told him that she knew he’d come around.

 

That night, she takes him for a walk through the forest at sunset. The sky was full of oranges and pinks, and there were insects that seemed to give out a luminescent glow all around them. It really was quite remarkable.

 

When they return from their nighttime walk, the stars are out and they lie on the grass with their heads almost touching and stargaze. There’s a gentle breeze and the stars are shining bright. It was as perfect as a night could be.

 

“I’m glad you’re you again,” Clarke says. “I’m glad we’re together.”

 

He turns to her and strokes the soft skin on her cheek. The stars are reflecting in her eyes. “Me too.”

 

“I was so mad at you for everything that you did.” She stops and scratches the grass with her fingers. “But being alone was worse.”

 

He stares at her as he lets her words sink in. How could she still see the good in him despite it all? He still didn’t understand. But then again, it had been over six years now. Six years and seven days to be exact. And you know what they say, time heals all wounds.

 

“We’re better together, aren’t we?” she says, running her fingers lightly along his cheek. “We can help each other through anything.”

 

He wanted to believe that. He takes her hand and pulls her up so they’re both upright. He takes her face in his hands gently. It had been a while since they last did this. He leans in, slowly, until his lips meet hers.

 

When he pulls away he looks deep into her eyes. Blue, like the gentle ocean waves coming ashore. And for a moment he actually believes that this is his life. That this could be their life for a long time. Forget the pain, forget the heartache, they could help each other heal. Together.

 

“Is this okay?” he asks softly. He didn’t want to move too fast after everything he’d put her through.

 

She smiles. That smile he’ll never get sick of. “Yes, this is perfect.”

 

“Do you think that you and I, and everyone on the Ark…” He pauses, not sure exactly why he’s asking her this. “Do you think there’s hope for the future?”

 

She lays back down and stares up at the stars. Bellamy watches as she puts her arms up high and sways them as though she’s painting. He can’t look away. He wonders what invisible art work she’s creating.

 

“Yes,” she says finally.

 

He props himself up on his elbow and watches her in amazement. “You still have hope?”

 

She lets her arm fall slowly down and land in his hand. “As long we’re still breathing, there’s still hope.”


	27. Love and Life

It only took a couple more years for their relationship to become what it could have been before all of this happened. If Clarke had never known the truth. If there was no truth for her to know.

 

Bellamy had learned to forgive himself with the help of Clarke. But still, deep in his gut he couldn’t forget. He’d tried. He’d tried as _best_ as he could, for her sake and sanity, and for their future together.

 

He would occasionally have periods of being really down, but they were becoming less frequent as time went on. When they did happen, they affected her deeply. Maybe more than they affected himself. She couldn’t bear to see him like that.

 

Clarke wasn’t mad at him anymore and that was all that mattered, he kept telling himself. What he did had destroyed her family and gotten her locked up. And if she could forgive him for that, then maybe he did deserve to forgive himself too.

 

Things were great now. They were closer than ever. They’d shared so much with each other, there was nothing off the table. They were both happy just living here and enjoying life, that everything else had eventually melted away.

 

Bellamy and Clarke are lying on the grass, as has become a daily occurrence for them, looking up at the stars through a thin layer of trees. They’re silent, watching, wondering how things are back on the Ark.

 

“Do you remember what I wished for,” Clarke says, rolling over so she’s looking at him instead of the stars. “When we saw that shooting star?”

 

He rolls over and looks at her. Her still cropped blonde hair with the pink streak on the left side shining in the moonlight. “To find a way for everyone to get down to Earth so no more people have to die.” He reaches out and brushes a piece of hair out of her eyes. “I remember.”

 

She lays back to look up at the sky. “Do you think they’ll find a way down to us?”

 

He props himself up and looks down at her. He can’t let her loose track of what’s real and what isn’t. She _can’t_ have meant to say that.

 

“Clarke…” he says, dragging out her name.

 

She tilts her head and gives him a sad smile. “Oh, you know what I mean.” She turns back to the stars. “Do you think _we,_ all of us on the Ark, will find a way down to the ground?”

 

He relaxes back down onto the grass. He was worried for a moment. “In truth, I don’t know,” he admits. “I hope so, but time seems to be against us.”

 

Knowing Clarke and his sisters fate, both of them expendable criminals being sent to the unknown, he was doubtful that they ever would. The failing oxygen system was a bump in the road that even the senior engineer could not fix. So honestly, he wasn’t very optimistic that any of them would live long enough to see the ground.

 

“I know we’re not actually on Earth,” she says. “But I kind of like it being just us.”

 

He feels the same. Things were good now. In fact, they were great. “I like it just being us too.”

 

Clarke sits up and shuffles closer to him. She takes his hand and massages his palm with her thumb.

 

He watches her carefully as he pushes himself up. “Clarke, I’m sorry. I know for those first few years I was… not fun to be around.”

 

She just smiles at him. “We all deal with things in our own way.”

 

“I know, but that’s no excuse for the way I was acting. I’m sorry for that. And I’m sorry for what I did to your family…”

 

She pushes her index finger to his lips. “No, the past is in the past, you need to _stop_ apologising.”

 

“I know but…" he starts.

 

“No _buts_.” She won’t let him keep wallowing in guilt.

 

He’s tried. Oh he’s _tried_ to forget all the things he did. And even though he'd forgiven himself, he still found it hard to live with what he'd done. When they went and planted the new flower this morning, counting the days it had been since they arrived here, the number surprised him.

 

“It’s been three thousand, one hundred and forty three days,” he says. This time, looking into her eyes with confidence.

 

“Exactly, it’s been over eight years now, don’t you think it’s time to move on?” she says.

 

“You make me so happy, Clarke Griffin,” he says, taking her face in his hands. “More than I ever thought possible.”

 

“So do you,” she whispers. “Bellamy, I…”

 

He waits for her to continue but it’s as though her throat has swelled up. She can’t make a sound and her cheeks are flushed. They stare at each other, like two kids in a staring contest.

 

Finally, she pushes him down to the ground and kisses him hard. He doesn’t resist, he lets her do whatever she wants. When she pulls away and he really takes a good look at her, everything feels right.

 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says. And he knows the minute that he says it that it’s the absolute truth. “I’ve never felt so strongly about something in my entire life.”

 

It was strange how this girl had managed to change everything he ever thought he wanted. And despite everything he’d done, despite the fact that he’d turned her father in and gotten him executed. Despite _everything_ , she still wanted to be with him. He didn’t understand why, he wouldn’t want to be friends with himself. But she did.

 

Clarke sits up with her legs on either side of him. “Then lets do it.”

 

He lays his head back and lets her smile radiate light onto him. “What?”

 

“We can do whatever we want here,” she says, putting her arms on either side of his head. “Lets devote ourselves to each other.”

 

“Whatever the _hell_ we want,” he says, looking up in thought. “You mean…?”

 

Anything that they desired was possible here. They could build things that made no kind of logical sense, they could travel as far and wide as they pleased. They could do whatever they wanted here.

 

Bellamy sits up and pulls Clarke close and delicately takes her left hand. “Clarke Griffin, will you marry me?”

 

She has the biggest smile he’d ever seen plastered on her face. To add to that, her hair appeared to be glowing in the moonlight.

 

“I don’t have…” he says, but she interrupts him. She seems to know exactly what he’s thinking, they’d really gotten good at reading each other these past few years.

 

“Yes, you do,” she says, gesturing to his jeans. “Check your pocket.”

 

He feels in his pocket. His totem is of course there, he never doesn’t have it on him, just in case. Below it, there is something smooth and metallic. He pulls it out and holds it up high. A silver ring with diamonds dotted around it.

 

“It’s the ring my dad gave to my mom,” she says. She closes one eye and looks through the middle of the ring at him.

 

He takes her left hand and puts it on her ring finger. She holds it up and looks at it in all it’s glory.

 

“I do,” she says.

 

Clarke opens up her right hand and there is another ring sitting in her palm. She takes his left hand and does the exact same thing that he did, she puts the ring on his ring finger.

 

“I do,” he says. He can feel the ring sitting there. The cold metallic thing sitting tightly on his finger. It’s real. It has to be.

 

Clarke erupts into giggles and push him to the ground. They make out for what seems like eternity but is so smooth that neither of them want to stop.

 

Eventually, she pushes herself up and leans onto his chest. “I know we can’t have a proper wedding or anything…”

 

He takes her waist and flips her over so she’s lying flat on the ground. “It doesn’t matter. We make the rules and I say that we’re _married_.”

 

She can’t stop giggling and it’s so infectious that he starts too. Bellamy’s cheeks hurt from how much he’s been smiling. Both of them are happier than they ever thought possible.

 

“Bellamy, I…” she says hesitantly. Her face has gone red again. “I love you.”

 

It’s the first time she’s said it to him. He knows how scary it is to be this vulnerable and open with someone. Although he knew she’d forgiven him, he hadn’t allowed himself to believe that things went deeper than that. That she actually _loved_ him.

 

He also found it hard to share his feelings with someone else, but he knew in his heart the he felt the same way as her. Maybe it was because their minds were somehow connected in this shared dreamscape, but somehow he knew that what they said here was more true than the things they said in real world. Because there, they hold back their emotions. As Shumway had told him, humans are more open to revealing their true intentions and feelings when they’re asleep. There was something very special about that.

 

He leans his face down and brushes his nose on hers. “I love you too, Clarke Griffin.”

 

He picks her up in his arms and carries her back to the cottage on the beautiful crisp night. Their cottage. Their home. He places her down at the front door, and before he has a chance to open the door, she pushes him down onto a flower bed.

 

It’s full of red and orange flowers, and it’s soft and pillowy, very comfortable. And the dirt doesn’t even bother him. In fact, he’s not even sure if there is soil under the flower beds. He doesn’t resist when Clarke begins kissing him semi aggressively. He’s all in too.

 

“Don’t you want to wait until we’re inside?” he asks when they have a moment to catch their breath.

 

She stops with her hand on his chest and cranes her neck up to the sky. She looks back at him with a smirk on her face. “It’s such a beautiful night. And besides, we can do whatever the _hell_ we want here.”

 

“So you want to spend our wedding night in a flower bed?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her.

 

“Yes,” she says, lowering herself down. “Why, is that a problem?”

 

“Adventurous,” he says, as she begins pulls his shirt over his head. The flowers tickle his chest. “Is there even any soil under these flowers? It feels like a pillow.”

 

He’s interrupted from his thoughts as Clarke begins to pull her shirt over her head, causing her hair to stick up all over the place. He reaches up to touch her bare shoulders and feels her silky smooth skin. How did he get so lucky?

 

“I honestly don’t remember,” she says, shrugging. “It’s been so long since I created this place.”

 

He pulls her down and takes her gently by the waist. She suddenly stops.

 

“Bellamy,” she says. “As your wife…”

 

“My _wife_ ,” he says, testing the word on his tongue. “I like the sound of that.”

 

“Do you think…” She strokes the side of his prickly face. “That you could maybe shave this beard off?”

 

“What? You don’t like it?” he asks jokingly. Of course he knew how she felt about it. Despite saying it might grow on her the first time she saw him with it, he knows it never really had.

 

“No, I do,” she says, but he knows that’s not entirely the truth. She moves her hand up his face and into his hair. “But you’ve had it for the past eight years. I just miss the Bellamy I met back on the Ark.”

 

“Okay, consider it done,” he says. “And, as your _husband_ , may I ask for something in return?”

 

She nods and bites her bottom lip. One of the little quirks he loves about her.

 

“Don’t ever change, Clarke,” he says softly. “You never gave up on me, even when I was at my worst. You always see the best in people. You never give up. You have the most _incredible_ mind out of anyone I have ever met.” He notices a tear fall down her cheek and wipes it away. “I don’t want you to ever lose who you are.”

 

She nods and looks up at the sky, and then back down at him. “And you…” She puts her hand down on his heart. "Have the most _amazing_ heart, Bellamy. Don’t ever lose that.”

 

“The head and the heart,” he whispers.

 

“One can’t function without the other,” Clarke says, her eyes lighting up. “Do you think we’re doing this married thing right?”

 

He takes her left hand and holds it up so the ring is shining in the moonlight. “Telling each other to do things and spending the night in a flower bed? I’d say we’re doing things quite right.”


	28. Happier Days

Bellamy and Clarke were happier than they ever been for the next couple of years. Everything felt new and fresh. They dug deeper into their brains and told each other more stories and learnt everything there was to know about each other. They both shared more with the other than they ever would have felt comfortable with in the real world.

 

Despite already have lived together for years prior, when they decided they were married things felt different. But a good different. Things were good. Things were _great_. At least, for a time they were.

 

Bellamy had been trying to forget about the past, to not keep reminding himself of what happened. But it came to a point where there was nothing that could distract him from those thoughts anymore. The honeymoon period was over and things went stale.

 

He withdrew from Clarke, much to her dismay. She could see the light beginning to darken in his eyes. But to her credit, she kept Bellamy’s wish and never gave up on him. She was always positive, even when he was the farthest thing from it.

 

Things were bearable for a while. Until one night when everything all came crashing down for Bellamy. He couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t even restless. He just lay here still with his eyes wide open staring at a mark on the wall. Rain began to fall and it didn’t comfort him the way it did for Clarke. There was thunder and lightning and he hated that he was the one who caused it.

 

“Bellamy,” Clarke says wearily, tapping on his shoulder. The storm was so loud that it woke her up.

 

He doesn’t turn over, he just keeps staring out into nothingness.

 

“Bellamy, _talk_ to me,” she says, trying to roll him over. “What’s wrong?”

 

He gives into her nagging and rolls over to look at her. Her face is pale and a look of worry covers it. She strokes his face, now clean shaven, as it had been since their first day as husband and wife.

 

“Go back to sleep, Clarke,” he says indifferently.

 

“No, tell me what’s wrong.” She wasn’t going to give up. She never did.

 

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he says, trying to sound reassuring but failing miserably at that.

 

“It’s not _nothing_. You always make it rain when there’s something wrong.” She sits up and pulls her legs to her chest. “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking about the Ark again.”

 

“I can’t…” he says, his voice breaking. “I can’t forget about what I did to you.”

 

She crosses her arms and looks at him disapprovingly. “I thought we were past this. I thought you’d moved on.”

 

“I’ve tried, Clarke,” he says defeatedly. “Since we got here, I’ve been trying as hard as I can.”

 

Her face softens as cups his cheek gently. “I know that forgiveness is hard for you, Bellamy.”

 

“It’s not hard for me, it’s impossible,” he says.

 

“It’s _okay_ to regret things. It’s _okay_ to think about the past,” she says, rubbing his shoulder. “But you can’t live in that mindset forever, you need to move on or you’ll continue to be miserable.”

 

He turns away from her. She knows her intentions are well meaning, but all it’s doing is making him feel even worse.

 

“Get some sleep," she says, running her hand through his hair. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”

 

But in the morning, he didn’t feel better. The rain was still pouring, harder and more aggressive now. It was dark and gloomy. It felt like the sun would never come out again.

 

Before Clarke is awake, he gets up and packs a small bag. He couldn’t stay here any longer. He remembers how being around him when he's in a mood like this had affected her in those first few years. He couldn’t do that to her again.

 

“Where are you going?” Clarke says.

 

“I’m leaving,” he says without looking at her.

 

She jolts upright. “Leaving? What are you talking about?”

 

He sighs and makes his way over to the bed. He crouches down and looks at her. “I’m no fun to be around when I’m like this.”

 

“What? So you’re just going to _leave_ me alone?” The wrinkles on her forehead are more obvious now, as they get when she’s about to cry. “No, _don’t_ you walk away from me.”

 

“I have to Clarke, I need to be on my own,” he says sadly.

 

“Because that worked out _so_ well for you last time?” she says bitterly. “If I hadn’t come to see you, you would have dug yourself into a hole.”

 

“I just need…”

 

The tears are well and truly falling down her face now. “Don’t you like being married to me? Don’t you _love_ me?”

 

“Oh Clarke,” he says, brushing a tear away with his finger. “Being married to you has been the _best_ thing that has ever happened to me. I do love you, more than I’ve _ever_ loved anyone before. But trust me, you’re better off without me.”

 

She grabs onto his arm and holds him in place with a tight grip. “I understand that you need to deal with things on your own. I get that. But running away is _not_ the answer.”

 

“I’m not running, I just need some time to myself,” he says reassuringly.

 

He waits as she stays silent. Her face is red but the tears have stopped. She wipes them away and look back into his eyes.

 

“Okay,” she says, releasing her grip. “Just don’t stay away for too long.”

 

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he finishes packing his bags and tries to ignore her eyes burning into his back.

 

“You were planning not to come back,” she states, knowing that those words are true.

 

They knew each other, sometimes even better than they knew themselves. That’s _exactly_ what he was planning to do. She doesn’t need to be burdened with him. He’d come to find her when the time came to go back, but until then she deserved to live the rest of her life in solidarity and peace.

 

“No,” she says, stomping over to him. “You were going to _abandon_ me.”

 

He doesn’t try to fight her, he knows she needs to get all her anger out before he leaves. “Clarke, trust me, you’ll have a better life without me.”

 

She pushes him back aggressively. “ _No_ , I’m not letting you run away from this life. We’re in this _together_ , remember?” Her breathing is heavy as she transfers all the weight from her arms to his chest. “I’ll let you go, but only if you promise me you’ll come back.”

 

He shakes his head. He can’t look at her. “I can’t…”

 

She pulls his head down to hers. They’re close, eye to eye. “ _Promise_ me you’ll come back.”

 

He stays silent for a moment. As he takes in the look in her eyes, the hurt, the anger, and most of all the sadness, he knows he can’t do this to her. She wants him to stay, that’s something. It would break her if he never returned. And he could never live with himself if he did that to her.

 

“I promise,” he says.

 

The rain is still pouring, but it’s calmed down since this morning, now that Bellamy’s nerves had lowered. He finishes packing, Clarke watching him the whole time, still not quite believing that he will keep his promise.

 

She opens the front door and lingers there as he gathers all his gear. She watches him, the fine wrinkles around her eyes making her look older.

 

“I’ll see you when you get back,” she says, standing on her toes and kissing him on the cheek.

 

Bellamy walks out onto the verandah and looks back at Clarke. She’s leaning on the door, still in her pyjamas, frilly shorts and black tank top. He hesitates. Is he making big mistake? No, he needs to deal with this trauma on his own.

 

“I love you,” Clarke says.

 

A part of him wants to say it back, but a bigger part of him can’t. He feels he doesn’t deserve to. Not after everything he’s put her through. He promised he wouldn’t do this to her again, and yet here they were.

 

He steps out into the pouring rain and lets it wash over him. He turns back and Clarke is still there in the exact same place, watching him leave.

 

Bellamy walks away from that life and doesn’t look back. He walks and walks and lets his misery consume him. He can feel Clarke’s eyes watching him until he’s too far away to be seen anymore.

 

She must feel the exact same way that he felt when he watched her walk away when they first arrived here.


	29. Surprise

When Bellamy returned to his place, it was exactly as it was the last time he was here. Clarke had planted trees and made things that made it feel more like a home and it hadn’t changed since then. For some reason that made him feel very ill. It somehow felt more stale than he remembers.

 

It was true that those first few years he spent alone were depressing. But he'd made it that way. He made his home bland and isolated and not a happy place to be. And now he was back here intentionally making himself feel that way again. Although Clarke’s efforts to make it more homely were much appreciated, being back here felt like he was drowning in his own guilt again.

 

He heads to the boat house and goes down into the bedroom under the floor. The marks on the wall are still there. _718_ days, that was when Clarke came and found him. That was when he stopped keeping count. He smiles at the memory of that day. She came and saved him. After that things gradually got better.

 

Being back down under the floor was suffocating, but it gave him time to think which is what he needed. And eventually, he realised there was only one thing he needed to remember.

 

_We’re in this together._

 

That’s what Clarke said. Everytime when he went into her dreams, they’d wake up hand in hand. Together. They were better together. They were happier together than they were when they were alone. He just needed some time to accept that in his heart and stop letting his head tell him otherwise.

 

After six months alone, he was feeling right again. The rain was always constantly drizzling, based on his mindset during his time away. When it stoped falling, it signified that his mind felt normal again. His heart had always been his strength, his head never had been. That explained why he let himself get into moods like this. It was like there was something missing. And he knew exactly what it was.

 

It was time to go back. It was time to go home.

 

As he walks past the lake, running his hand along the railing, he actually begins to appreciate the beauty in this place. What Clarke had done had no doubt improved it, and on this day the sun was shining and the sky was clear, which was a reflection of how he was feeling. He felt for the first time since he’d been here that he truly, genuinely loved life.

 

He lets some water from the waterfall spray on him. Refreshing, it wakes him up and reminds him that today is the beginning of a better life. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be consumed by pain or guilt again. He was determined to fight it.

 

When he gets to the mountain, he turns back to look at his former home. It just felt like a place now. A place that came from his memory. He wasn’t sad to say goodbye. He wouldn’t miss it.

 

He walks through the forest, through the lush greenery and tall trees. When he emerges into the clearing, the cottage looks exactly as it always did, with a few minor tweaks, like more flowers surrounding the house. He stops at the flower bed next to the door, the place they spent their wedding night. He picks an orange flower and inhales the scent of it. The smell takes him back to that night.

 

He makes a bouquet of the red and orange flowers to give her. He smiles as he knocks on the front door. A genuine smile on his lips. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

 

Clarke opens the door and her face is glowing. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me.”

 

He holds out the bouquet of flowers to her. “I’m sorry for the way I was acting.”

 

She holds them to her nose and takes in the scent that represents their first night as a married couple. “Things are good now?”

 

“Things are _great_ ,” he confirms.

 

She falls into his chest and wraps her arms around him. He wraps his arms around her… but there’s something that feels different about her. He pulls back and looks down. Her stomach... it’s grown.

 

She stands there, biting her bottom lip. “Surprise."

 

“You’re…” he starts, but can’t finish. The words seem to be out of his vocabulary. She’s _pregnant_. He didn’t even know how to comprehend that.

 

“Yes,” she says, the words coming out as a chirp. He can see how happy she is about this information. But then her face falls as he looks at his shocked face. “You’re not mad… are you?”

 

“Oh no,” he says. “Clarke, of _course_ not.” He takes her left hand and finds her wedding ring. “You… knew about this before I left? That’s why you didn’t want me to leave.”

 

“Yes,” she admits, taking his left hand in hers and running her finger along his ring. “I didn’t want to guilt you into staying so I had to let you go. But I was certain you’d come back.”

 

Impulsively, he kisses her. Softly, careful not to put pressure her swollen belly. He pulls away and his mouth refuses to close, he was just _so_ happy. “I’m going to be a father.”

 

She nods as she brushes a strand of hair out of his eye. “We’re going to have a daughter.”

 

“A girl?” he asks, his smile spreading even wider. “How do you know?”

 

She wraps his arms around him and lets her head fall into his chest. “I can just tell.”

 


	30. Growing Up

The last few months of Clarke’s pregnancy seemed to fly by. The delivery of their daughter was relatively easy and simple. It was all in their minds after all, and Clarke could control the amount of pain she was in.

 

As Bellamy cradled their newborn daughter, he couldn’t believe his eyes. She had his eyes and she had her mothers cheeks and lips. She was beautiful. She was theirs.

 

“Madi,” Clarke croaks breathlessly. “That’s her name.”

 

“Madi?” Bellamy asks, gently lowering her into Clarke’s arms. “Why did you decide on that name?”

 

“I don’t know,” she says, stroking their daughters head. “Something tells me that’s her name.”

 

“I love it,” he says, leaning over the new mother and baby. Clarke twists her neck around to kiss him. He'd never felt so happy.

 

Raising Madi was easy for Bellamy. He’d practically raised Octavia, and compared to her and the issue of having to be hidden from society, raising their child was a breeze. She barely cried and slept soundly every night. She was an angel. She was everything to Bellamy. She solidified to him that life was worth living and he told himself he’d never fall back into old patterns.

 

He’d built a nursery for her, but she quickly grew out of everything it seemed. They had to keep getting bigger clothes, build a bigger bed and create bigger boundaries in the backyard. The years just seemed to slip by.

 

When Madi was old enough to walk, every morning she and Clarke would go out and plant a flower to count the days. Bellamy would watch from the kitchen window and couldn’t contain the the absolute contentment he felt. How did he get so lucky that this was what he got to wake up to every morning?

 

When Madi turned five is when things seemed to slow down. She was still young, but she was old enough to begin to learn and grow and to make sense of the world. She didn’t seem to need them much anymore, she kept herself busy.

 

On the other side of the forest, Bellamy created a beach. Like the one that he and Clarke spent those first few dreams together at. Madi loved going there. They had family days down there which were pretty great.

 

On this particular day, it was Madi’s first time trying to bodyboard in the water. Bellamy demonstrated how to do it and she quickly picked it up. They left her to her own devices, watching her from back on the sand.

 

“You’re so good with her,” Clarke says, placing her hand on top of his.

 

“So are you,” he says cheerfully, keeping his eyes on Madi and watching carefully.

 

“She amazing, isn't she?” Clarke says.

 

“She is,” he replies. He turns to look at his wife. “And so are you.”

 

They allow themselves a moment to kiss, but Clarke is distracted, watching Madi out of the corner of her eye. They continue to watch their daughter in silence listening to the gentle waves crashing onto the shore, both of them still unable to believe that this is their life.

 

Clarke sighs. “I wish she didn’t have to grow up. I wish we didn’t have to grow old. I wish.., we could live in this moment forever.”

 

He wishes the same, that things could be like this forever. “I know.”

 

“This is all I could ever want in life.” She leans back and looks up at the sky. “Except, maybe that everyone else would come down here, and that my mother could meet her granddaughter.”

 

Bellamy takes her left hand in his and stops. There’s something different. Something missing. His heart feels like it skips a beat. “You’re not wearing your dads watch.”

 

She pulls her hand back defensively. “I just want to live in the moment, it’s not a big deal.”

 

He feels his body begin to shake. “I know the feeling, Clarke, but you _can’t_ let yourself forget…”

 

“I won’t,” she cuts in. “I just don’t want to be constantly reminded of it.”

 

Bellamy instinctively feels for his own totem in his pocket. He still always has it on him. He understands what Clarke is saying. He knows what she means by not wanting that constant reminder. But his training taught him to always have it, just in case. But… they’re smart enough to know the truth, aren’t they?

 

He looks out at the water, at their daughter having the time of her life surfing the waves. He wants to live in the moment too. He wants to believe that this is real. Just for a little while. They won’t get lost, he’ll make _sure_ of it.

 

When they return to the cottage, Bellamy heads to their bedroom while Clarke gets Madi cleaned up. He opens up the jewellery box on the nightstand and finds Clarke’s watch sitting in there. He takes the spinning top out of his pocket and holds it up.

 

It’s his reminder, his passage back to to the real world. But Clarke was right, it was always there, reminding them of the truth of this reality. They could never truly appreciate this life with their totems always on them.

 

He looks up and sees Clarke in the reflection in the mirror, standing in the doorway.

 

She comes over and wraps her arms around his waist. “We’ll be okay. We’ll remind each other. We don’t need our totems.”

 

He cranes his neck around to look at her out of the corner of his eye. “I love you.”

 

“I love you,” she says back, and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

 

She stands back and watches him. He puts the spinning top into the jewellery box and closes the lid. He takes a deep breath. He can always come and get it if he needs to. It’s right there. This isn’t a big deal.

 

Clarke reaches her hand out and he takes it. Suddenly, Madi comes rushing into the room and attaches herself to Bellamy’s leg. “There’s some ripe berries in the garden and mama’s agreed to dye my hair!” she squeals. There is excitement in her voice that only a child can have.

 

She already has pink staining around her lips, which he tries to wipe off with his thumb. He raises his eyebrows at Clarke. “Oh, has she?”

 

“She wants to look like me,” Clarke says, shrugging. She still has that pink streak in her hair. It’s become such a prominent part of her identity that he can’t even remember when it wasn’t there.

 

Bellamy hoists Madi up into his arms. She’s not as easy to pick up now, but she still sits comfortably on his hip. Her thick dark brown hair is the same colour as his. She had inherited a lot of her mother in her facial features, and a lot of him in other ways.

 

“Dada, we can dye your hair too if you like?” Madi says sweetly. Her voice was kind and childlike, she reminded him a lot of Octavia when she was a child.

 

He laughs at the thought of that. Him, with pink hair? Imagine _that_. The thought of that sends Madi into a fit of giggles.

 

It’s because of moments like this that Bellamy is confident that the decision to put the spinning top away was the right choice.


	31. Letting Go

Madi seemed to grow up in the blink of an eye. One minute she was the little six year old with pink tinted hair, then the next minute, she was a rebellious teenager who was embarrassed by the way her parents acted.

 

And then before Bellamy and Clarke’s eyes, she was all grown up and moving out of home. She had told them her plan, but Bellamy had refused to acknowledge how fast that day was approaching. Because suddenly, it was here.

 

He stands in the kitchen and watches through the window as Madi and Clarke plant one last flower together. Through the gaps in the trees, he can see them in the distance, adding another purple lilac to the row of flowers. He hadn’t been keeping track of the number of days, they all seemed to fly by way too fast. Clarke knew the number, but he didn’t want to be reminded of how much time had passed. Because then he would be reminded of how little time they had left.

 

Bellamy wanted this morning to last forever. He didn’t want them to leave the clearing. He wanted them to stay out there. But when he sees them walking back to the cottage, he is forced to accept that it's time to say goodbye.

 

“Stay safe,” Clarke says, rubbing Madi’s shoulder and stroking her hair.

 

“I’ll be fine, mom,” she says, rolling her eyes. Embarrassed by the way they’re acting, as was typical from her.

 

Bellamy carries her bags out onto the verandah and then joins his wife and daughter. “Don’t get into any trouble, Madi.”

 

“Dad, I won’t,” she says, a rebellious smirk on her lips. “I _am_ well behaved when I want to be. You and mom raised me that way.”

 

That hits a heartstring. “I know,” he says, his voice breaking as he says it. “Things are going to be different when you’re gone.”

 

She falls into his arms. “You’ll be fine. Go and travel the world. Don’t worry about me.” She pulls back, her long brown hair blowing in the breeze. “I mean, of course don’t _forget_ about me, but enjoy your life. Go out and do something you’ve always wanted to do. Get away from this cottage for a while.”

 

“You don’t like our little cottage?” Clarke asks, joining in on the hug.

 

“No, I do, it’s just… small. I want to go out and see what else out there. You should do the same. Don’t let yourselves get stuck. Keep moving. Keep living.”

 

She was a very bright young woman, a projection of both of her parents. And also a subconscious reminder of the truth. But Bellamy wanted to forget all that and just live in the moment. That’s why they hadn’t even had a brief thought of their totems for over fifteen years.

 

“I’ll miss you guys,” Madi says, pulling away from them and picking up her bags. “I love you.”

 

“I love you,” Clarke says. Her voice is strained, trying to hold back the tears.

 

Bellamy puts his arm around Clarke and waves goodbye. “I love you, Madi,” he yells to her. “Come back and visit sometime.”

 

Madi waves back to them. But Bellamy knows deep down that she won’t come back. This is the end of that chapter of their lives. And this life was nearing it’s end too.

 

Bellamy and Clarke hold each other as they watch someone they love walk away. It’s sad, but they both knew it was coming as much as they didn’t want to admit it to themselves.

 

When they head back inside the cottage, things feel different. There’s no constant other presence there aside from themselves. But this _is_ how it was always supposed to be. Them, together.

 

Clarke collapses onto the couch. “I wish she could have stayed.”

 

Bellamy puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know, but we had to let her go, you know that.”

 

Clarke rests her head on his hand as she wipes her tears away with her sleeve. She managed to hold off on the tears until she was gone. “I know.”

 

The lines on her face were becoming more obvious due to growing older. Her hair was beginning to grey, but it still had a tinge of blonde when it shone in the light. And she’d never fully gotten rid of that pink streak. It was almost faded now, but Bellamy could still see it. She held onto her youth, she didn't want to give it up.

 

Bellamy, on the other hand, was more welcoming to change. His hair was greying too, but he let it be. He let some stubble grow, which was now grey too. He didn’t feel older, he still felt like the young man he was. Or so he felt he was. But sometimes he’d find himself forgetting.

 

That was the thing, it was so easy to commit themselves to this life. To ignore what they both knew somewhere deep inside. It was something that the totems would have helped with. But living here, _really_ living, while they still had time was more of a gift than always having that burden in the back of their minds.

 

Over the next few years, Bellamy and Clarke took Madi’s advice and traveled around the world. They went everywhere from the history book that Bellamy had owned once upon a time. They visited beaches, artefacts, the pyramids, and the ruins of old Rome, which he wishes he could have taken Octavia to see. They saw _everything_ , and it all looked exactly the way it had in that book.

 

They still had their daily routine. Clarke would plant a flower at the beginning of the day, and every night they stargazed. They never doubted any of the choices they’d made in this life. They had hope that everyone else would come down one day, but still, they liked it being only the two of them.

 

Things were great. Their life had been great. And even when Clarke’s skin began to shrivel, Bellamy’s love for her never wavered. Her eyelashes had turned white and her hands were frail but none of that mattered, she was still the same person he’d fallen in love with.

 

“I said I wanted to live a long life with you, Clarke Griffin, and that is still a true now as it was then,” he says to her one day as he watches her frowning at herself in the mirror.

 

“Even though I look like this?” she says, turning to him with her hands on her hips.

 

“Yes, you’re still you,” he says. He takes her hands and begins swaying her back and forth. “You’re the woman I fell in love with. You’re the woman who didn’t give up on me. You’re the mother of my daughter. I will _never_ stop loving you, Clarke.”

 

“We’re old, how did that happen?” she says, giving a laugh. “I just… wish we could have stayed young forever.”

 

“Nothing good happens when you’re stuck,” he says, continuing to turn her in gentle circles. “You’re the one who told me that, remember? When I was beating myself up and living in the past, refusing to put it behind me and move on. I was miserable. That was no way to live.”

 

A subtle smile appears on her face as she remembers back to that time.

 

“We’ve lived a long and wonderful life,” he continues. “And those memories are special and we’ll never forget them. But allowing ourselves to be consumed by them and wishing we could go back is no way to live. Life goes on.”

 

“We’re still breathing,” she says. A callback to a conversation that they had many, _many_ years ago.

 

“Yes, we’re still breathing,” he says, pulling her closer and letting her nestle her face into his shoulder. “We’re still together.”

 

They sway back and forth in silence, remembering everything that’s happened in their life. The good times and the bad. The hard times and the easy. All of it made their life what it had been. And although a part of them wishes they could back, the memories were more than enough.

 

“Together,” Clarke whispers into his ear.


	32. Time to Go

A distant beeping sound wakes Bellamy up. He checks the alarm clock and hits it tiredly, but the alarm doesn’t switch off. He blinks his eyes and wipes away sleep.

 

He’s focusses on the clock. It’s 6.11am. A little early. He looks around the room but cannot figure out where the source of the noise is coming from.

 

He carefully gets out of bed, not wanting to wake Clarke who is sleeping peacefully, and searches the house for the origin of the sound. But he comes back empty handed.

 

He looks at himself in the mirror above the dresser. His hair is grey and bald in patches, and the stubble on his face has almost gone white. There are prominent wrinkles on his forehead and veins that are obvious on his hands. He’d lost of count of things, or maybe he’d forgotten, or maybe he didn’t want to remember, but he must be over the age of seventy now. Something clicks for him. Suddenly, he realises where the sound is coming from.

 

He goes over to the dresser and opens up the jewellery box. Their totems are both still there, untouched for the last thirty years it must have been. He takes the spinning top out and looks at it’s reflection in the mirror. He’s tempted to spin it, to make absolutely _sure_ that his suspicions are correct. But he decides to not to. It will break the spell, it will reveal the truth of everything and he wasn’t ready to face that quite yet.

 

He gets changed into a dark blue shirt and dark pants, clothes that feel familiar to who he used to be. They remind of that day out on the pier when she found him. When he looks in the mirror, for a moment he gets a glimpse of the young man he used to be. He puts the totem securely in the pocket of his jacket and takes a deep breath. It’s time.

 

He kneels down, wincing at the the way his knee joints creak as he does, and gently strokes Clarke’s face.

 

She stirs and her eyes flutter open. She smiles when she sees him. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” he says, smiling down at her. He takes in her tired features, he’s always loved the way she looks when she first wakes up. “Can you hear that?”

 

“Hear what?” she asks, a look of confusion crossing her face.

 

She couldn’t hear it. _Why_ couldn’t she hear it? She should be able to. He suddenly feels a little worried. What could be the explanation for her not hearing the sound? Was she too far lost in here?

 

“We need to go for a walk,” he says as confidently as he can.

 

Her expression changes as she crooks herself up on her elbow. “Why? What’s wrong?”

 

“No, nothing is wrong, we just…” He hesitates, not sure how to say what he needs to. He wishes this didn’t have to end, but the fact was, it did. “Trust me, Clarke.” He darts his eyes to the opened jewellery box on the dresser. “And wear your dads watch.”

 

Her eyes widen when he says that. He knows that she hasn’t even _thought_ about that watch for decades. She pulls back from him. She looks a little frightened.

 

“Clarke,” he says, rubbing her shoulders comfortingly. It always calms her down. “Please, for old times sake.”

 

Her face relaxes at that thought. The thought of the past, remembering how things used to be.

 

He leaves her to get ready, she may need a bit of time to recoup after putting her fathers watch on for the first time in over thirty years. And that’s okay. They still had a bit of time, he’d allowed for that.

 

Bellamy was beginning to feel a little strange. Drowsy, but more awake somehow, like something wasn’t quite as it seems.

 

When Clarke emerges into the kitchen, she’s wearing tight jeans and a loose blue top, something she used to wear in the early days. Bellamy’s memory was a little faded, but he believes that’s what she was wearing on that day at the pier. Bellamy is pleased to see her fathers watch on her left arm.

 

He holds his hand out to her and she takes it. She’s acting a little more withdrawn and sheepish than usual, which causes him a bit of worry.

 

“You ready to go?” he asks gently. He knew how hard this whole thing must be.

 

She lets go of his hand. “In a minute, I need to go and plant a flower.”

 

The count of how many days they had been here. Bellamy watches through the kitchen window, barely able to see that far through the trees as his eyesight had begun to regress. To him it looked like a blurry purple maze out there, protected by the border of tall trees. It was a beautiful sight. He was going to miss it.

 

Once she’s finished planting the final flower, Clarke grabs onto Bellamy’s arm and they walk through the forest as the sun begins to rise. Light rays pierce through the trees and broken lines of light wash over them.

 

“How many flowers?” he asks her. In truth, he had no clue. There were so many and he’d stopped keeping count many years ago.

 

“Eighteen thousand, one hundred and ninety seven,” she says with a smile.

 

He sucks in a deep breath. That's a lot. The last time he’d counted they were in the four digit mark. They’d been here for a _long_ time.

 

They emerge out of the forest and make their way past the mountain. Bellamy’s old home comes into view. The sun beginning to rise at the far end of the lake was a sight to see.

 

“It’s been a while…” Clarke says doubtfully.

 

It had. They’d taken Madi here once to visit when she was nine years old, but since then, they hadn’t come back. It held too many painful memories for Bellamy. He pushes them away as they walk down to the road. It’s hard and rough, unlike the abundant soft landscape surrounding the cottage.

 

Clarke runs her hand along the brickborder of the pond, letting the waterfall spray onto her. “I remember when this was first built. A long time ago.”

 

“It was a long time ago,” he says. He turns her around to face him. “You know it’s time, Clarke. It’s time to go home.”

 

She looks away. “I don’t…”

 

He could still hear the alarm, now seeming to pulse through his body. It was beginning to make his head ache. He leads her over to the railing along the lake.

 

She pulls out of his grip and takes a few steps back. “No… Bellamy, the cottage is my home.” She reaches out and places her hands on his chest. “ _You_ are my home.”

 

“Clarke…” he says worriedly. “We can’t stay here, you know that. We need to go.”

 

She pulls back and shakes her head fast. “No.”

 

“You _know_ this isn’t reality,” he says, his voice shaking. “Look at your dads watch.”

 

She stops and darts her eyes towards her wrist, and then squeezes her eyes shut. He doubts she actually looked at it. “What about Madi?”

 

He crouches down and takes her hands. “Clarke, you know she’s not real. She’s a projection of our combined subconscious.”

 

Tears begin pouring down her face. “How..” He can hear the bitterness in her voice. “How can you _say_ that about our _daughter?_ ”

 

He’s taken aback by her tone. Madi felt as real as _anything_ to him, but he had the awareness to know that she wasn’t. “Clarke, _please_.”

 

“No,” she says firmly. Her eyes are now open wide and have a strange look in them. “The other people on the Ark will come down and find us… we just have to wait a bit longer. They’ll come Bellamy, I _know_ they will.”

 

He needed to get her to listen to reason, but he fears he may not be able to. “No one is coming down because we’re not really on the ground. You _know_ this, Clarke.”

 

“We are,” she says, but it sounds more like a question. “We are.” More confident now. “I remember now… we took an escape pod down to the ground, just you and I. We’ve been waiting for all these years for the rest of them to come down but they haven’t yet.” She looks up at him hopefully. “Don’t you remember?”

 

He collapses down onto his knees in front of her, suddenly feeling scared, more scared than he’s felt in his entire life. He grips onto her hands tightly. “No, Clarke, I don’t remember because that _never_ happened.”

 

She shakes her head, refusing to accept that. “It did. I remember. I _remember._ ” He voice comes out in croaks, beginning to sound scratchy. She keeps repeating it over and again, trying to convince herself that what she’s saying is true.

 

This was Bellamy’s biggest worry, the reason why he was so afraid when he found out she’d stopped wearing her totem. The reason why he was reluctant to lock his away. It’s so _easy_ to get lost in this world, to convince themselves that this is the only reality.

 

His whole body is shaking now, from old age but also from fear. He can still hear the alarm and it’s causing his heart to beat unevenly.

 

He takes her hands and meets her eyes, hoping that somehow it will help her see things clearly. “Clarke, none of that happened. Stay with me, _please_.”

 

She pulls away from his grip and begins shaking her head again. “No, it _did_ happen. Why can’t you remember?” Her voice comes out in sobs. “I remember… I… we came down on an escape pod and we’ve been here, just you and I, for a long time.”

 

“Clarke, we need to go home,” he says, standing up weakly. “You know what we need to do.”

 

She stands back stiffly, refusing to move. “This _is_ home.”

 

He takes her hand firmly and tries to drag her over to the railing but she stands as still as a rock.

 

“We’ll die if we jump off there,” she yells, a look of genuine fear in her eyes. “The fall will _kill_ us. Bellamy… you know it will.”

 

She keeps taking small steps away from him. She’s afraid. She’s terrified. She’s convinced herself that this is reality and that there is no waking up from it. He doesn’t know what to do. What can he do to make her see?

 

He stops and collapses to the ground. He _can’t_ let this happen to her. But there’s no reasoning with her. She won’t listen. “I promised,” he says, only just loud enough for her to hear. “That I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I can’t let you stay here.”

 

She shuffles closer and tilts his head up to look at her. “Then _stay_ with me.”

 

“Please Clarke… I can’t lose you.” Tears begin to fall down his cheeks like a steady rainfall. “I _can’t_ lose you.”

 

Bellamy closes his eyes and listens to the alarm that is seeming to get louder by the second. It sounds closer, almost as if he can reach out and touch it.

 

He tries to imagine a world without a Clarke. But he can’t. Before he met her, the only people he had were her mother and sister. And through his stupid mistakes they were both taken away from him. Clarke was a bright spot in his life, someone worth getting up every morning for despite his tedious job as a janitor.

 

And this long life they’ve lived together was everything he could have wished for and more. He couldn’t even comprehend the thought of letting her stay here, alone, without him. Of her becoming a shell in real life. But if he stayed with her, he’d become a shell too.

 

That would mean he’d never get to see his sister again. Clarke would never get to see her mother or Wells ever again. He’d never figure out a way to get her out of prison. And they'd never get to see the real Earth one day.

 

How did he let this happen? He _promised_ he’d protect her. He _promised_ to keep her safe. But he let her hide her fathers watch away, and he let himself hide his spinning top away. They let themselves forget. He let her forget.

 

Just as he’s almost given up hope, he feels something cool on his face. He opens his eyes and sees Clarke’s face eye level with his. She’s kneeled down and is cupping his cheek with her hand. He places his hand on top of hers gently. Her face is wrinkled and her lips are pale, yet she’s as beautiful as ever.

 

“Okay,” she says tearfully. “We’re in this together.”

 

He lets out a sigh of relief and presses his forehead to hers. He kisses her passionately, fearing it may be for the last time. And despite having lived a long life together, it still feels like the first time.

 

Clarke lets him lead her over to the railing. He climbs up first and then helps her up. They help each other to keep their balance, hand in hand. He can feel his heart beating fast, as he’s sure hers is too. The sun is straight ahead, almost blinding them. But it’s also letting a comforting warmth wash over them.

 

Bellamy looks down at the water that is a fair way down below. He’s a little afraid, it’s been so long since they last did this.

 

He takes one last look at Clarke as she is now and squeezes her hand. She looks to him with an uncertain, but trustworthy, smile.

 

“Together,” he says.

 

“Together,” she repeats.

 

They both lean forward and let themselves fall, deep down into the unknown. There’s a certain peace to this moment, mixed with a feeling of dread.

 

Both of them have been so captivated by this life that they don’t know what they’ll find at the bottom.


	33. Home

There is an ache pulsating throughout Bellamy’s head, unlike anything he’s ever felt before. The alarm is deafeningly loud, right next to his ear. He opens his eyes and things look almost white. Too bright. Too artificial. He reaches his hand down until he feels the machine. He searches for the button to stop the alarm, trying to remember where it’s located.

 

Finally, silence. His eyes struggle to open due to the extreme change of light and he forces them back closed. He moves his hand up and finds her hair. She’s awake, he can hear her quick sudden breaths.

 

He gradually opens his eyes, giving them the chance to adjust to this new light. Everything comes into focus at once. He can feel his own heartbeat, hers too, beating sporadically.

 

“Clarke…” he croaks.

 

She doesn’t respond. But she’s alive. She keeps trying to catch her breath, almost hyperventilating. He wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her hair, trying to warm her up, trying to get her breaths to stop being so rapid.

 

“Calm down, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he says softly.

 

As he rocks her back and forth, he feels her body begin to relax. Eventually her eyes open and she stretches her neck around to look at him. There’s a sadness in her eyes, but they’re those eyes that he remembers. She’s here. They’re back.

 

He takes the IV drips out of their arms and lets them fall down onto the machine, not wanting to take her eyes off her yet in case something changes.

 

“Where…?” she begins to ask, looking around as though she doesn’t quite know where she is. Her eyes are squinted, she can’t seem to open them fully.

 

“We’re back, Clarke,” he says, stroking her shoulder. That would always calm her down. He stops. In the dream it would, he actually wasn’t sure whether it would here.

 

“Back?” she asks. “What do you mean _back?_ ”

 

“We’re back home on the Ark,” he says.

 

She struggles to get her eyes to open fully and take in her surroundings. When she does, she looks out like she still doesn’t know where she is. She looks at him and touches his face. “You’re young.”

 

He smiles. “And you’re beautiful.”

 

She gives a small smile and then frowns. She reaches up to her hair, the messy braid that has almost come out of it’s hair tie. She pulls it around so she can see the end of it. Then she lets it fall and shakes her head.

 

“I know things are disorienting,” he says. “But things will begin to feel normal again soon, you just need some time to readjust.”

 

She bites her bottom lip as she meets his eyes. “We were on the ground.”

 

“We were,” he confirms, moving his hands carefully up to her neck. “It was amazing, wasn’t it?”

 

A single tear falls down her cheek. “We were married.”

 

He holds her cheek which she leans into. “We had a daughter,” he whispers.

 

“Madi,” she breathes. She takes his left hand and runs her fingers around where his wedding ring should be. “We lived a long life together, didn’t we?”

 

He watches her fingers running along his hand. “We lived for _fifty_ years together.”

 

She leans her head down. “It felt so real.”

 

“I know,” he says.

 

She lets go of his hand and looks around the room. The empty stale room. “What if it _was_ real?”

 

“Clarke…”

 

She pushes away from him and pulls herself over to the edge of the bed. She hangs her legs off and swings them back and forth, the way she did when she came and found him on the pier. He doesn’t know what to make of this. Why would she say that? He thought she was fine, that she’d be okay when they returned.

 

“What if it was real, and this isn’t?” she says firmly.

 

He puts his hands on her waist to steady her, she’s looking a little out of it. “Clarke, you know none of that was _actually_ real.”

 

“But what if it was?” Her eyes dart to his, a hopeful look in them. “What if _this_ is the dream?”

 

He shakes his head and holds her securely. This is what he was worried about. Her loosing touch with reality. He wasn’t prepared for any of this, for spending that long in limbo. Neither of them were, but her less so. She hadn’t had any training the way that he had. He was told to keep a close eye on her and make sure she didn’t lose herself.

 

She meets his eyes. “Don’t you get it, Bellamy, we’re dreaming.”

 

“No, we’re not,” he says carefully. He’s worried about saying the wrong thing to her.

 

“We need to wake up,” she says. She pulls out of his grip and unsteadily stands up on the bed.

 

He gets up on his knees and wraps his arms around her waist. “Clarke, what are you doing?”

 

“We need to fall.” Her whole body is shaking. “Remember at the beach?”

 

The beach. Those first few dreams felt like a lifetime ago. He holds onto her, afraid of what she’s planning to do.

 

She leans down and touches his cheek. “We’re in this together, right?”

 

“Clarke, I can’t let you do this.” He stumbles off the bed and collapses to the floor. His body feels weak, like his bones are not strong enough to hold him upright. He struggles to push himself up but manages to stand unsteadily in front of her.

 

“We need to wake up,” she says. It’s almost like she’s possessed, her voice doesn’t even sound like her own. “We _have_ to wake up. We need to get back home. To the ground… to Madi.”

 

She’s confused. That’s understandable. What they both went through was hugely draining on their minds. She just needs to be reminded of why this is real. How much realer things feel in reality. Bellamy tries to think of what to say to make her come back, but he feels mentally exhausted.

 

She turns around and lets her heels hang off the edge. Bellamy freezes and tries to think of what to do to stop her. If she does fall, she’ll land on the hard ground. If that happens, best case scenario, she’ll get a few bruises here and there. Worst case scenario, she’ll hit her head so hard that it will kill her.

 

“Bellamy, I _need_ to do this,” she says, facing away from him. “We need to get home.”

 

He puts his arms out, ready to catch her when she falls. But he’s worried that in this weak state he won’t be able to support her weight. They’d both been through an ordeal, neither of them were at their strongest or in their most rational mindset. What if he’s not strong enough? But he musters up as much strength as he can and readies himself for her fall.

 

Clarke’s whole body is still shaking, so profusely that it feels as though the whole room, and possibly even the whole Ark, is shaking too. He watches her carefully, and the second she begins to lean back he thrusts his arms out to catch her.

 

Too heavy. She’s too heavy for him. She topples him over and his back slams onto the ground. He keeps his neck bent upwards to avoid his head getting injured. But he cushioned her fall, his back got most of the impact. It’s painful, but he’ll live. They’ll both live.

 

Clarke curls up into a ball and begins to cry uncontrollably. Bellamy cradles her in his arms. His jacket feels all wet and sticky, but he lets her get all her emotions out.

 

They landed on the drawing that Clarke did on the floor, of the view of the sky from the ground. The one drawn in dust. Now that dust covers them.

 

“This can’t be my life,” Clarke says to herself. “This can’t be my life.” She keeps repeating it over and over, hoping that the more she says it, the more true it will be become.

 

Bellamy stays silent and just rocks her back and forth. He finds her left arm and checks the time on her fathers watch. Eight minutes until he needs to be out. He doesn’t have much time. But he can’t leave her in this state.

 

“Clarke,” he says softly. “Look at me.”

 

She rubs her head back and forth into his jacket and then inches upwards to meet his eyes. Her face is red and tearstained.

 

“I have to go,” he says, wiping her face with the sleeve of his jacket. “But I need to know that you’ll be alright.”

 

“Wait,” she says, grabbing a piece of his shirt in her fist. “Don’t go yet.”

 

He watches her try to regain herself. She looks round the room, really taking it in this time. She seems to have become more like herself now.

 

“Why…” she starts, meeting his eyes again. “Why did you give me that?”

 

How to even begin to answer that? He didn’t even know. And he didn’t have time to gather all of his feelings on the matter, but there was one way to answer that in simple terms.

 

“Because I love you, Clarke,” His breaths come out in shakes as he says it. Aside from his sister and mother, he’s never said that word to anyone before. In their dream, it was easy. But in reality, it was petrifying. But it felt good to finally say it out loud. “I’ve known it since the moment I met you.”

 

A storm of tears fall down her cheeks, like the steady rainfall back at their cottage.

 

“I’m going to do _whatever_ it takes to get you out of here, but if I fail, I wanted you to have something to hold onto,” he says. “I know that you may never be able to forgive me for what I did…”

 

She puts her finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “No, I told you, you’re _forgiven_. I don’t regret anything that happened in there.”

 

He stops and takes a second to process what she’s said. He knew that in dreams things may feel real, but he didn’t know if they’d come through to reality. If she could forgive him for everything, even in this life… then maybe deserving forgiveness was not off the table. Maybe he wasn’t the monster he still felt like he was.

 

“I don’t regret any of it either,” he says.

 

He leans forward and kisses her. He lets it linger for a moment, this may their last kiss ever. For all they know, this might be the last time they ever see each other.

 

Bellamy begins to stand up, but Clarke pulls him back.

 

“Wait, I…” she starts, but then stops.

 

She’s scared, afraid of what she’ll say next, he can tell. But he can see in her eyes that she feels the same way that he does.

 

“I love you,” she says finally. Her voice is squeaky, like it’s some thing that she has also never admitted out loud to anyone before.

 

He crouches back down and takes her shoulders. “May we meet again.”

 

“May we meet again,” she whispers back.

 

Bellamy kisses her one last time and then stands up. It’s time to go. He has to leave now or they’ll both be screwed. He walks to the door, still unsteady on his legs. It feels like he’s walking on soft sand, he can’t quite keep his balance properly.

 

He knocks twice on the door, the signal that he’s ready to leave. Somehow he remembered that even though it seems like decades ago when he was told that information. As he waits for the door to open, he looks back at Clarke. Her messy braid, her bloodshot eyes, her dust covered body. Even looking like this, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

 

He was going to miss her. He was going to miss her _so_ much.

 

The door opens and he walks out of the cell and immediately falls to his knees. His vision begins to blur and his hearing goes. There is a muffled sound and he feels someone trying to pull him up. That’s the last thing he remembers before everything goes black.


	34. Reality

Bellamy rolls onto his side and groans. There is sharp pain traveling up his spine and a consistent throbbing in his head. He opens his eyes and for a moment, he can’t see anything.

 

But then the fuzziness disappears and all he can see is grey. He reaches out. It’s cold. A metal wall. He rolls over and winces at the pain. The dining table, bookcase, the door under the floor. He’s back in his chambers. He sits upright on the bottom bunk and pulls his legs down until his feet are flat on the ground.

 

He looks down at his clothes. He’s wearing a guard uniform. Black pants and plain blue shirt. The guards jacket is hanging down from the top bunk and the cap is lying on the floor. It somehow feels right, like this is how things are supposed to be. But something about everything feels a little strange.

 

He puts his arms down ready to push himself off the bunk, but then notices the dried blood on his left forearm. It’s dripped down from the inside of his elbow. Everything comes flooding back.

 

The ground… the cottage… Clarke… Madi… the lake… together… waking up… All of it comes to him at once, like a wave crashing through that you can’t escape from. It all feels like a distant memory. And yet it also feels closer than ever.

 

He stands up and his feet feel like they have a million blisters covering them. He limps his way over to the sink and manages to get a glass and fill it with water. He takes a sip. It’s refreshing, like ice flowing through his veins. But there’s something about it that tastes… empty.

 

He closes his eyes to try to escape from all the pain and weirdness for a moment. When he opens his eyes, they find the jacket hanging from the bunk. He hobbles his way back over and ruffles through the pockets. His hand lands on something metallic.

 

The spinning top. His totem. He rolls it in his fingers. He remembers back to the last few things in his memory. He was with Clarke in her prison cell. They said goodbye to each other.

 

He was there, and then the next thing he remembers, he was here, back in his chambers. He thinks back to Shumway’s first lesson on dream sharing and there is something he said that comes to the forefront of his mind.

 

_In dreams, you arrive right in the middle, you don’t have to travel to or from the location._

 

That was one of the ways to determine whether you are dreaming or not. In those first times he went into Clarke’s dreams, they just arrived at the beach. They didn’t have to travel there. They were just there.

 

He racks his brain, trying to remember more about last night. He was with Clarke, he walked out of her cell… and then he woke up here. _How_ did he get here? He doesn’t remember walking back. He doesn’t remember seeing Shumway again even though he was supposed to be waiting right outside of the cell. He doesn’t remember anything. So how the _hell_ did he get here?

 

Could he be….? _No._ It’s not possible. Is it? He he tries to access every part of his brain to remember. but nothing comes to his mind. He was in Clarke’s cell and then he was here. There is no in between.

 

He walks over to the small dining table and rests the spinning top there. He hesitates for a moment. Does he want to do this? Is he prepared to know the truth?

 

He flicks it in his fingers and it spins on the table steadily. He lowers himself down to his knees and puts his chin on the table, watching the spinning top intently. He hopes that it doesn’t fall.

 

Because that would mean that this is a dream and the life he lived with Clarke is reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this fic. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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